


Greater than Magic

by VictorianLegend



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Coping, Drunk revelations, F/M, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstanding, Multi, Realization, not necessarily from the main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianLegend/pseuds/VictorianLegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EDITED SUMMARY:<br/>“Lancelot---“</p><p>“Merlin, are you sure about that? Are you absolutely sure? Without question, your heart belongs to the king and no one else?”</p><p>There is a tightness in the knight’s voice that Merlin’s throat suddenly echoed, his heart beating frantically as he tries to gauge the reaction. He makes a small nod. “Yes.” He whispers.</p><p>(After Arthur arrives late from a quest, Merlin is made to face his feelings for the king. With the obvious affection between Arthur and Gwen, he tries to cope. He fails of course.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Greater than Magic**

**Prologue**

Merlin may be a sorcerer, but even he knows when things are impossible. There are simply situations, occurrences, which cannot be tampered with or else the entire balance on which the world hangs upon will be upturned, and possibly never be brought back to right again.

Love is one such thing. Its overwhelming pillar of power is sturdier and rooted deeper than the largest, oldest trees which manage to cling unto the forest floor throughout centuries, witnessing the passing of time with an unchanging dexterity of disposition. Magic is not the strongest force in the world, for it is in fact love, a force proven so great since the beginning of time that even the deadliest sorcery can be thwarted by it, and cunning plans of revenge can be broken by true love’s first kiss.

Merlin knows that he was born with a special ability that made him stronger than most people he knows, and when he came of age and was sent to Camelot, he was made aware of the great responsibility that is set upon his shoulders that came with his extraordinary capabilities. Although every step that he took to self-awareness has evoked in him a sense of surprise and wonder, like the first time he was able to do something great with his magic by suddenly stopping time to save a glass of precious, precious milk from crashing onto the floor when he was but five years old, and the time when he first saved Arthur’s life and felt a deep sense of satisfaction and  rightness, as if he was meant to protect Arthur, it is love that one day sneaks up on him and brings him into  a bone deep shock that makes him tingle all over, his jaw slackening, and his heart beating thrice as fast as he knows is safe and normal.

The day Arthur comes back from one of his rare trips where Merlin was not asked to tag along more than a week later than his scheduled arrival and three days since Merlin has been reduced to a restless, panic-stricken, bumbling fool that followed any and all clues he could find on Arthur’s whereabouts , slightly bruised where his armor is not protecting him but with his back still casually leaning slightly back and a smile on his face when he meets eyes with Merlin’s glistening ones, Merlin grasps a force that starts from his chest and spreads throughout his whole body that he knows at once can topple his immense power.

He loves Arthur, and not all the magic in the world can change that.

Unfortunately, it is the same magic that he cannot use to change the odds into his heart’s favor. He realizes this soon after he finds out the extent of his feelings when he takes a tentative, almost mindless step forward towards Arthur, probably to hug him, or even just touch him to reassure himself that yes, Arthur is truly back,  and is made to stop as Guinevere beat him to it, running towards the King with outstretched arms and a large smile on her face with not a single thing holding her back as she flung her whole body, her whole self upon Arthur the way that a lover, not a mere servant is allowed to do, and Arthur does nothing to stop her, welcoming her into waiting arms that encloses her a second after they make contact.

How Merlin’s chest hurt and his stomach makes as if to curl inside, twisted and unbearable. And truly, he wants to come join them and smile at his friend sovereign like he usually did, accompanied with a slight smack on the head, but he cannot stop himself  as his body turns away from the sight. He feels love like a physical threat between him and Arthur, and when he is made to choose between fighting it and running away from it, he chose to go.

Jokingly, he thinks to himself as he lies on his bed, curled and covered by his thin sheets with dried tracks on his face while he stares at his trembling right hand, that he is a lover, not a fighter. Too bad it doesn’t feel as funny as it sounds.

No one bothers him from his quarters that night even when he is technically skipping his duties when Arthur probably really needs his domestic assistance for once. All are too busy celebrating the safe arrival of the king: dozens are probably waiting on him in his place.

Just as well, he thinks. He needs the night to readjust his gears to accommodate the extra load on his chest and be able to function like normal the following days.

When the sun rises with the coming dawn, he wakes up with a start when Gaius bangs loudly at his door to notify him that his workday has already begun. He grumbles but is able to give the old man a smile on his way out.

He will be just fine.


	2. Chapter One: Walking Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the realization of his love for Arthur, Merlin finds it to hard remain indifferent in his king's presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In all honesty, I have only watched up to S3 of Merlin. I'm quite late in the fandom, sadly. Thus, I am making this story in an AU timeline where Arthur is now king of Camelot and has accepted back into the kingdom magic users. He has also already learned of Merlin's power, but only just recently, thus Merlin's continued station as his servant.

**Chapter One: Walking Away**

Merlin takes a much needed breath as he silently enters the King’s quarters. Given the busy nature of the previous night, it is almost a given that Arthur would still be slumbering beneath his sheets. Not that Arthur makes it a habit to wake up early any other day without much prompting, but he did become more responsible after becoming the sovereign ruler, waking up when he absolutely has to in order to continue the peaceful ruling of the kingdom.

The quiet snores that greets Merlin with the breakfast tray in hand slows the rapid beating in his chest, and he endeavors to move as quietly as possible as he goes about some of his routines in order to keep his king asleep. He surely wouldn’t be questioned nor bothered much later because of his choice when there is nothing urgent currently going on, he thinks—he would have been informed otherwise, and everyone knows of the harrying ordeals their king went through to return to his beloved Camelot to collectively want his full recovery.

However, Merlin has never been a very lucky man. Perhaps in exchange for his great power came his debilitating clumsiness and lack of bodily coordination that makes his limbs flail beyond his control, enough so that Arthur often makes it a note to give the time of day to tease Merlin about it. After placing the tray upon the side table, he hastily turns in want to finish his duties as fast as he can, only to miscalculate his distance from the wine jar and have his left elbow crash into it, successfully creating a loud clanking as the metal of the jar meets with that of the tray’s and a loud splash to grace the room as the wine spills, soaking some of the meat and bread.

Merlin cannot even flinch as he freezes, hoping and praying to all the powers in the universe that the lack of any further noise would deter the imminent waking of Arthur.

It would seem that any other supernatural power beyond his control is not in his favor today for the snores immediately ceases, and in place of it, a deep rumbling ensues. From his peripheral vision, Merlin sees Arthur rise, sitting up and exposing his bare torso with skin looking pale and smooth if not for some bruises and scratches that colors and textures it in parts. His hair is ruffled, and while Merlin had always found it a bit adorable, to his surprise, he is currently finding it greatly endearing, the urge to run his fingers through it to straighten out the tangles stronger than he has ever felt before.

Arthur’s mouth is in a frown, his brows furrowed, and his nose crinkled in a pained grimace, looking around for the source of disturbance. Merlin is comically still in the exact same incriminating position, and Arthur swiftly zeroes in on him.

“ _Merlin._ ” He says, and the familiar accusing tone and the underlying ‘idiot’ that usually comes with it finally, _finally_ , makes Merlin move, awkward smile in place, one hand on his back and another raised in greeting.

“Hi.” He replies, quickly putting his arm down to meet with the other behind him as it begun to tremble like the leaf his entire being felt like in the sudden gush of his emotions.

 “What the _hell_ are you doing causing such a ruckus in the— _is that my breakfast you just ruined?_ ” Arthur gapes at the soggy mess on his table, groans, and flops back to bed. “Merlin, my first day back after risking my life to fight off some mythical monster on the outskirts, and all I want is a relaxing morning with _decent_ breakfast, and you already messed things up. I wonder why I don’t just replace you, you horrible man-servant.”

Merlin takes a few calming breaths, trying to still the nervous tremors in his body before making a quick apology and an offer to clean up and bring some more breakfast. Apparently, he took too long to answer because now, Arthur is eying him up. And really, Merlin has always known that Arthur was not hard on the eyes, but it seems that his newly discovered emotions is only seeing him for the first time and is now causing palpitations and a heat to slowly creep up his cheeks as he takes his view of the man who is using his elbow to raise his upper body as he turns and properly looks at him, half naked, but with the way the sheets are covering the rest of him, might as well be fully so in his traitorous mind. He gulps.

“Are you alright? Did you finally hit your head hard enough while I was gone? Stop your gaping and move on already.”

While Arthur’s questions drips  with as much insult as per usual, Merlin still manages to hear the underlying concern at the gentle ending note, the confused tilting upwards of his eyebrows, and the worried frown that pushed his lower lip in an almost pout. Arthur’s concern touches him in a way that makes him want to step towards Arthur and reassure him of his well-being.  Instead, he takes a wobbly step back, nods frantically. “Fine! I’m perfectly fine! Uh..let me just get some more food.” He moves to quickly gather the ruined food and wipe clean the spill, feeling Arthur’s gaze on him the entire time. He almost ran to get out. With the way his thoughts are consistently spiraling down from infatuated to completely love-struck, he figures it best to gather his wits first.

As he walks through the many corridors that leads to the kitchens, he thinks briefly how it would affect his work if he is unable to quickly get over the ridiculousness of feeling like a maiden head-over-heels in love that could faint every time his king’s attention is put on him, but he forcefully fights the thought down by willing to believe that what he is feeling is simply a phase. Surely, if one could fall in love in such a sudden rush of emotions, one could as easily fall out of love? Or at least, he should be able to control his reactions .

Perhaps he needs to have counsel with Lancelot, he thinks, and endeavors to look for him in the training grounds later after he has fulfilled all of his duties.

It takes him a while longer than usual to make it back from the kitchens to Arthur’s chambers. When he finally arrives, he sees Arthur already dressed and examining his sword. The moment that he notices Merlin’s presence, he sheathes his blade, hands it to him, and points to where the rest of his assemble is. “I need you to clean and polish my sword, my armor, and my boots. My horse also needs a bath, and make sure that the stables are clean when you put him back there.” He then proceeds to go to his breakfast to take his fill.

Merlin feels relieved as Arthur seems ready to let go of the strangeness he caused in their morning routine earlier.  He stands at the side while Arthur finishes his food, content to have passed the harrying event relatively unscathed. Merlin listens to him ratting off the tale of his heroic battle with a rare chimera that has been causing some disturbance in the far lying villages.  Due to its observed flighty behavior, he had been advised to face it alone to entice it enough for it to present itself and engage in a fight. He narrates in great detail how he made fast action once the it showed itself, aiming for its biggest head for a quick kill only to be thwarted when the creature turned out to be good on its hind legs, leaping out of reach and breathing fire.

Merlin finds himself inexplicably feeling his stomach jump at every mention of a near death encounter and lets himself huff out a breath at every victorious maneuver.  By the end of the tale, he is embarrassingly flushed, wishing more than ever to have been with Arthur during the whole ordeal.

“…and Merlin, I wish you were there with me to witness the entire thing. I’m sure you would have finally realized how lucky you are to be serving such a great warrior such as myself.”

It would seem that Arthur shares the same wishes, although with admittedly different motives. It took more than it should not to proclaim his undying loyalty alongside his undying love right that instant. Arthur had long come past the point of having to prove his worth to Merlin. Merlin already knows of Arthur’s prowess as a knight given the numerous instances they have fought together and watched each other’s back, albeit without Arthur’s full knowing. However, more importantly, Merlin knows of the true extent of his goodness and right to the crown by virtue of his actions and his pure intentions for the continued prosperity of Camelot and its people, enough so to willingly tie his fate completely to Arthur in loyalty and in service.

“Yes. Yes, I would have loved to see that. I would have loved y—to see you.” He mutters, almost mumbling by the end when his statement came too close to the truth. He grits his teeth and, while Arthur preens by himself and stands to prepare himself to go out, Merlin moves in quick, practiced motions to clear the food items and cutleries, running off for the second time that day while spewing excuses about wanting to finish his duties early because Gaius…might need him, “…actually, he wants me back early to gather some herbs for his…hair growing ointment. Bye!”

Lancelot. He needs to see Lancelot.

Merlin does quick work in the stables, using his magic to help him do it more efficiently and faster. Given the new decree declaring magic users as accepted citizens of Camelot with equal rights to non-magic users, Merlin have been increasingly more open to using his powers in public, although being frightened for being himself for the past several years, he still sometimes feel a sudden leap in his chest in nervous tension when someone catches him at it without him knowing.

Right now though, he does not mind the envious staring of the other stable boys. After making sure that all mess has been cleared and Arthur’s metals polished, he runs out to the training grounds where several of the knights can be found sparring with each other in order, trying to find each other’s weak spots and working on them. Today though, Arthur, who is often part of their training and warrior bonding, is missing, probably taking it easy for now to recuperate from his journey. This works well for Merlin, who immediately finds his target battling Sir Percival.

 Waiting for the fight to be over, he waits on the sidelines, surveying each knight with appreciation for both their physical prowess and their well-built physiques as well which he is having trouble ignoring, especially now after discovering his part in quite an impossible love affair. Perhaps if he indulged in other men…

The clanging of swords stops as one of the knights shouts for a break, and Merlin calls out to Lancelot, who in turn faces him with a handsome smile, wiping the back of his hand on his forehead to stop the flow of sweat.

“Merlin! What brings you here?”

“Listen. Um…” he eyes the curious looks they were receiving, answering with a flailing limb the raised hands acknowledging his presence. “Can we talk somewhere a bit private?”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow at him but only follows him quietly when he heads to an unpopulated space on the perimeter of the training grounds.

Upon making sure that they were out of anyone’s earshot, Merlin stops and turns towards Lancelot. “I…” only to halt. He did not really think through how he would word this out. Should he simply confess his love for Arthur or should he conceal his situation by weaving it as another’s tale?

Lancelot frowns when nothing forthcoming comes out from him. “Is it something serious, Merlin? Is Camelot in danger?”

Merlin shakes his head, opens his mouth and tries again, gaping like a fish as an inevitable result. A puzzled look crosses Lancelot’s features as he tries and fails to make sense of the aborted noises coming from Merlin.

After a few more seconds of utter failure, Merlin snaps his mouth shut and takes a steadying breath.

“I’m in love with Arthur!”

Lancelot blinks at him and Merlin feels a slithering frustration as  the knight does not make any other reaction. He taps his foot on the ground, grits his teeth together, and frowns hard.

“Well, what do you think about it?” he prompts when a couple more seconds of tested patience prove unfruitful. In response, he finds strong hands closing on his shoulders, pushing him down to sit on a stone structure somewhere behind him. Shocked and wide-eyed, he watches as Lancelot falls on one knee in front of him, putting his face uncomfortably close to him. Well.

“Lancelot---“

“Merlin, are you sure about that? Are you absolutely sure? Without question, your heart belongs to the king and no one else?”

There is a tightness in the knight’s voice that Merlin’s throat suddenly echoed, his heart beating frantically as he tries to gauge the reaction. He makes a small nod. “Yes.” He whispers.

Lancelot sighs and moves back a few inches. “Merlin, this is serious. As your friend and as…as a man who…” there is a hitch in his breath as if he is finding it hard to continue. “Merlin, I love Gwen.”

Once again, Merlin could only nod and answer in a soft voice. “I know. That’s…I know it’s impossible. That I have no chance whatsoever. Arthur loves Gwen and Gwen…This is why I came to you first.” The knight inclines his head in subdued acknowledgement. “I just realized my feelings, and I need to deal with it.”

Despite desperate hoping that all this will simply simmer down to nothing, Merlin is not naïve enough to believe that it would be easy to get over his love for Arthur and that it is entirely possible never to get over it. However, he does know that he must be with Arthur and that he there are ways with which he can control himself, much like Lancelot does whenever he is in the presence of Guinevere. He simply needs to learn how.

 With a force, his frustration build in his chest and in an instant, he is standing, pacing in front of his friend who stood up and stepped back in response. “I can’t be far from him, Lancelot. It is my destiny to stand by his side as he fulfills the prophecy and builds Albion that would unite kingdoms in a time of peace, but with these…these emotions!” he gestures violently at himself and sees his hands shaking in the process.  “God! Suddenly it’s as if I can find all the reasons to touch him, and it hurts not being able to. And when I think of how…how I’ll never be able to. I feel like letting it all out to him, to confess in the small hope …that he will love me back.”

He pauses and turns a pleading gaze at Lancelot. “I can’t be with him like this. Tell me how to stop this. Please….I know …with Gwen. Tell me how you are able to stand by her, talk to her without giving everything away!”

For a few moments, none of them speaks. There is only the sound of distant knights grumbling, talking, and laughing, oblivious to the great troubles the two of their acquaintances have found themselves in. It is kind of weird how something so normal as people going about their daily routines now feel so alien in the face of new emotion. Now there is love. Now there is heartbreak. Merlin’s fists clench, his nails digging hard in his palms the same way his teeth are imprinting themselves on his lower lip. The more seconds that pass that he looks at Lancelot and there is no answer forthcoming, the lower his shoulder sags, heavier his breath becomes, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows form, the harder the painful thudding in his chest.

 “I…I do not know how to stop it, Merlin.” There is a sound of desperation in Lancelot’s voice, making him sound almost apologetic. “It is still painful. As long as my heart beats for Gwen, it will hurt to see hers beat for another. ”

He smiled self-deprecatingly at himself. He embraces Merlin tightly, turning his head to his ear, whispering as he jostles Merlin in his arms in camaraderie. “But we will survive, Merlin.  We would still be there for them, even if it hurts because we love them and we believe in them. We just have to bear it down as best as we can”

Merlin could not help but lean into Lancelot, nuzzling his face in the warmth of his neck. Moisture gathers on his eyes, but no tear falls. More than crying, what he does is be overwhelmed at the sudden turn that his future seems to promise him, and for that, he needs Lancelot’s solidity and understanding.

They stay attached to each other for a few moments until a shout calling the knights to gather back makes Lancelot pull back. He ruffles Merlin’s hair a little.

“I have to go, my friend.  But know you can always come to me to talk.”

Merlin nods, watching Lancelot walk back to the others before leaving.

The next few days turn out as hard as Merlin predicted, sometimes even harder. He keeps finding himself  flustered over his usual routines. Preparing Arthur’s bath has become monumentally tasking as his thoughts seem to halt at every glimpse of skin normally covered by his clothes. Seeing it glistening wet in the short moments before the king dries himself, Merlin has become more familiar with using sorcery in manners he never thought he would have to do to hide his reactions. He finds a little expanding trick on his trousers goes a long way, and suddenly falling décor is quite the convenient distraction.

Mostly, he tries to distance himself. He would never truly leave Arthur; he thinks he would not be able to even if wants to, but he could avoid unnecessary interaction. In the morning, he leaves Arthur’s presence the moment he receives his orders and he finishes his initial morning duties. He stops complaining, minimizing his grumbling in the king’s presence to avoid them arguing. In fact, he thinks he’s become a better servant. He focuses on his tasks more to stop his thoughts from straying to Arthur and chats more with the other servants during his extra time to divert his attention. Now he knows more palace gossip than he had before this whole thing.

Despite the now constant undercurrent of pain inside his chest and the sudden bursts of sentiment when he misses Arthur, everything else is going quite well if he says so himself, allowing him to breathe a little easier. The only slightly concerning thing that occurs as a result is that he sometimes catches Arthur studying him with an incomprehensible expression that is a mix of confusion, bewilderment, and something else he cannot name. He dismisses it as a natural reaction to the sudden change in behavior, and as long as Arthur does not voice anything out, he deems it not as serious as him finding out what is truly going on. Arthur would soon get used to it. It also helped that a visiting royalty took most of the king’s attention, talking about possible treatises and shared opportunity for trade. With how things are going uninterrupted, Merlin thinks he may just grow accustomed to this new way of serving his king.

A week passes, and he has only once come to Lancelot after the initial talk they had. It was after a night’s banquet to bade the royal visitors farewell. Everyone, including Merlin, were feeling a bit drunk. He had been asked to pour some wine as Arthur raised his goblet, but he wobbled, nearly spilling his drink if not for Arthur catching an elbow with his free hand and steadying him. Arthur had smirked at him, leaning in close to whisper.

“You seem to have gotten a thing for spilling my wine. I say stop wasting good alcohol and drink some with me instead.” He was quite obviously in a good mood, and when he pulled back, he took the jar from Merlin, poured its content on his goblet himself, and offered it to Merlin. “Cheers?”

Merlin smiled contentedly and full of happiness at Arthur, drunk the offering, banged the goblet on the table, and placed a hand at Arthur’s shoulder when he swayed on the spot before realizing what he was doing. He excused himself to the loo, which earned him a laugh and a friendly arm slap from Arthur who shooed him away.

He found himself at the castle entrance where he sees Lancelot. Lancelot was never much for losing himself with alcohol, but Merlin decided nonetheless that he would rather make a fine drinking companion. It turns out he was even though he kept refusing a drink. Merlin shared a couple of his frustrations but deigned it better to just forget for the night. They joked a bit and talked of home instead, and soon, Merlin fell asleep.

It is the eighth day without too much of an incident. Feeling a tad more confident, Merlin makes his way towards Arthur’s room to do some dusting. Arthur should be in the throne room this afternoon to listen to some of the villagers’ complaints, so he does not bother to knock.

However, as soon as the door budges the smallest bit, he hears soft voices coming out. One of them was Arthur’s, and the other is a woman’s. Gwen’s.

“…talked to him yet?” he hears Gwen’s sweet voice speak full of concern.

“No. It’s not exactly something I can just ask. I mean, he’s not exactly doing anything wrong…which is exactly what’s wrong!”

Merlin tenses, having an idea of what may have caused this conversation.

“But you two are friends. Just ask him if something happened to him that he may want to talk about.”

“Why don’t _you_ ask him if you think it’s so easy?” there is evident frustration in Arthur’s voice, and the consequent pacing reflected his agitation.

“Oh I will.”

“Gwen…”

“Come here, Arthur. You two have been together almost attached to the hip these last few years. I think you’ve already earned it to be able to ask him if he’s okay.”

“…”

“…Arthur?”

Merlin bites his lip. Arthur is concerned about him, that is very much obvious. He could not help but feel the warmth of hope to spread in his chest, making him smile almost unconsciously. It is wonderful to know that he has firmly established his place at Arthur’s side that his king is able to feel such desire to understand him. It is not often that sovereigns have placed such great importance to their servants, and it continues to amaze Merlin he has such luck to have his destiny tied to such a person.

He raised his fist to knock. Perhaps if he showed himself right this moment, he can alleviate some of Arthur’s fear.

“I do not know what I would do without you, Guinevere.”

“Well, let us both hope you never do.”

Or not. Merlin takes a quick step back as if pushed by some invisible force that covered his entire body with a cool sensation, pain pulsing in his chest in sudden appearance that he lost a breath. Without much conscious thought, he turns and begins walking away. This is dangerous territory. He cannot come in to that room with such _hope_. It is just as well that he has been reminded of his place, for truly, this pain would prove dull compared to what awaits him in the face of Arthur’s rejection, disgust, and _disappointment_.

Halfway across the corridor, a few more steps to the turn that would hide him completely from anyone coming from the room, the door opens and Arthur comes out. Merlin freezes mid-step, and it would have been funny if not from the sheer terror of Arthur seeing everything on his face which he has not had the time to hide.

“Merlin?!” Arthur’s surprise is followed by Guinevere’s quiet gasp as she peers from behind him.

Merlin cannot risk it. He does not face them. He straightens, though, and hardens his voice from the tremble he feels in his breath. “Oh! I—I’m quite in a hurry. If you don’t mind?”

He walks away, and he almost feels like crying in relief when no one tries to stop him. At least that is what he says to himself as his eyes prickle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has been adding 500-1000 words to this fic these past few days. Still going strong in the "Don't Break The Chain" thing! Hopefully, I am able to continue my consistency.:) 
> 
> Also, comments are very much welcome!


	3. A Better Servant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin discovers the price of being a better servant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'll be updating regularly but failed to do so. It's embarrassing to admit, but I broke the chain.;^; And now I have a day job to add to that. I'm sorry.   
> Anyway, that's that. Here's another chapter. I've had this for some time, but I only just found the will to edit it. Hope you continue to enjoy the story. ^^   
> Thank you so much for the comments! :)

**Chapter 2**

Sometimes, there is simply a need for a person to be alone.  And in such a city as Camelot, there is no better place to spend it than in the tavern where no one takes notice unless one brings attention to one’s self to order some ale that would be readily provided. Merlin finds himself in **Two Hats** , a pub owned by a magic user he helped once. His first drink is always on the house.

He sits at a corner table, watching the hustle and bustle of the regulars. It is getting late in the day, and even with some light left, there is already a considerable number of people. There are shouts for more alcohol, widespread flirting among the men and the barmaids, banging on the tables, and scraping of chairs against the floor. It all seems surreal when the loudest thing he can hear is still his beating heart. He picks up his ale and gives it a tentative sip.

He thought that he was doing fine, that things were somewhat under control. In fact, everything had been going quite smoothly until the last few hours, but it turns out he was wrong. Now he does not know what to do. Arthur obviously cares for him, and dare he think it, holds some affection for him. At the most, Arthur considers him as a friend.  But that is it. Somehow, that seems kind of worse at the moment seeing that if Arthur is a little more indifferent towards him, maybe he would have an easier time letting go of his emotions.

He drinks a large gulp of his ale and thinks of going to Lancelot. Even if the man has nothing much to share with him regarding getting over Arthur, seeing that he himself is not over Gwen, he will certainly appreciate the understanding company.

 He is contemplating getting up after finishing the last dregs left of his drink when a figure of a man appears in his line of vision. Raising his gaze, he finds a familiar face. Really, it’s very typical for Gwaine to be in such a place. 

“Hey they, Merlin! Didn’t expect to find you here! At least not this early.” Gwaine is smirking at him as if he just caught Merlin in a naughty act. Merlin would have felt a bit discomfited if not for his current misery. He tried to smile back, but he must have failed since Gwaine suddenly sits on the stool in front of him and puts on a concerned look.

“So.”Gwaine says.

“Yeah.” Merlin replies back.

When nothing else comes from Merlin, Gwaine prompts him with a tilt of his head. “Gonna tell me about it?”

Merlin contemplates the question for a second, assessing the man. It is of no doubt that Gwaine is a trustworthy man as he has already proven a long time past despite his numerous bandying about places where there is the slightest hint of ale, but the matter is a delicate one. He cannot simply go about sharing his feelings as there is always danger in number. When it comes to things that are better away from the light of day, discretion is of utmost importance. The fewer people who know, the better.

On the other hand, he considers the knight a dear friend, and his concern is to be expected if not appreciated. It would almost seem a slight in their bond to not at least try and alleviate Gwaine’s worry for him.

In the end, Merlin goes for the truth, only omitting necessary details. “I need to forget someone, Gwaine.”

Gwaine’s eyes widen, and a look of understanding crosses his features. Merlin panics for a moment, thinking that he has been hideously obvious in his affections enough so that the knight has gotten wind of it. However, Gwaine eases his tension the next moment as he speaks of his unfortunate experiences with women, how he is completely with him in sympathy, and would he like another round of drinks after the one he is having.

Merlin laughs nervously at this, putting a hand behind his neck, silently thanking the gods of the other’s blessed ignorance. After his highly decorated tales, a silence falls between them and Gwaine looks at Merlin appraisingly. Under the scrutiny, Merlin gets a little uncomfortable, more conscious of the darker circles he’s been sporting the last couple of days and the slight weight he had lost along with his appetite. On outward behavior, he would not recant that he had been doing great. It does not go to say, however, that he is doing as well within himself. It is always when he is alone that the situation takes a greater hold of him. At night before sleeping, when there are no chores or people to occupy him, he cannot stop himself from worrying whether things would get better eventually or would only get worse. He also spares some thought on his current relationship with Arthur. Although he has proven a better servant, he is aware that he is doing poorly as a friend. He needs the distance, but he does not see how their friendship could handle the blow well, especially under strange circumstances that one of them are not privy to. Arthur is already showing concern. Still, Merlin is unsure if he can parry the questions that are sure to come as gracefully as the situation requires.

Heaving a great sigh, Merlin takes sudden notice of Gwaine’s silence and grows nervous if he has missed more than he thought he did with his little mental walk through his emotional dilemma. He feels extremely conscious, taking far more note of how dry his throat is and how his adam’s apple is bobbing quite obviously as he tries to swallow. He is about to open his mouth and ask, but Gwaine is turning, jutting his chin out to the barmaid and looking sideways at Merlin in askance. “You know, I’m quite popular in this area. I’m sure I can pull in a favor if you need one.”

Merlin struggles to contain the nervous laughter bubbling up in his chest, but a desperate sounding giggle escaped him still. “I really appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’ll help. You see, the person I’m trying to get over is a man.” Breath whooshes out of Merlin. He doesn’t know how Gwaine would take his confession. While sexual relations between two men is not forbidden the way magic once was in Camelot, not everyone feels comfortable with it, especially when the knowledge stands between the friendship of two male friends. However, somehow, he feels that he needs to tell. That for the friend that Gwaine has always been-- is proving to be, perhaps he deserves to know, deserves to have a choice regarding the friends he surrounds himself with. He straightens, puts his palms on the wooden surface of the table where his fingers felt the damp rings left by the water droplets from his glass and stands up.

.”Also, I think I spent enough time here already. Gaius is probably looking for me.” He says, already making a move to rush out the door. He’ll spend his time in the forest alone instead. That might help clear his head. However, Gwaine stands up with him and grabs his wrist.

“Merlin, I’m sorry I made the wrong assumption. However, please don’t think that I mind your choices. What you do between the sheets is your own business.” There is sincere worry in his voice that he might have offended Merlin, but there is also gentleness in his touch, as if trying to calm a spooked animal; reassuring, accepting, and coaxing.  Merlin meets his eyes and nods.

“You’re thought is well appreciated.” He means it too. There is certain lightness in him after knowing part of the true measure of the friendship they share.

“I can still help you, Merlin. I’m more adventurous than you’d like to think.” He winks at this, a lewd smile defining his features.

Merlin chuckles with gusto for a brief moment, unable to contain the absurdity and how completely _Gwaine_ the situation is proving to be. “To know I have friends like you willing to help is help enough, Gwaine. But Gaius truly must be looking for me, grumbling about the chores I’m supposed to be doing.”

The knight chuckles in return and goes back to his seat. “Well, then. Go if you must. Just keep in mind that the offer still stands.” He calls as Merlin reaches the entrance. “I will!” Merlin shouts back, making his way to the darkened streets outside. Maybe he’d just truly go to Gaius as he’d said. There would be scant to see in the woods by the time he would arrive there.

Merlin makes it until the palace entrance when he is stopped in his tracks by the sight of Arthur helping a woman, royalty basing from the quality of her drapes and the delicate sheen of her skin shown by the moonlight, down her horse. She has a quaint little smile on her face while Arthur kissed her hand, pleased, and from the flush on her cheeks, a bit smitten.

There has been no news of visitors scheduled to arrive today, and with the seeming prestige of the company now being escorted inside, there would have been grand preparations. This must be an emergency or an urgent business.  Merlin is immediately curious and partly on edge as occurrences like this usually do not bode any well for the kingdom.

He is not yet summoned but he follows the entourage nonetheless. As soon as Arthur’s eyes land on Merlin, he is calling him, instructing him to carry the Lady Allison’s things in her room and make sure that everything is in proper order.  He does as he’s told without protest, carrying the bulk up a couple of staircases and long hallways. He wonders if the lady has been bringing all the wealth of their kingdom on her luggage given its great weight throughout the journey, and needless to say, he is panting and huffing by the time he opened the guest room door. Perhaps it is the strain, and also a tad bit of luck, that on his third step inside the room, his strained legs fails to raise enough to walk over a slight indentation on the floor, making him trip forward and drop the luggage he is carrying, causing it to spill some of its contents. He fumbles to try and bring the things back to where they were when he spots a piece of cloth tied with string that seems to contain something inside.

Inquisitive and already suspicious because of the circumstances, he examines it in between his hands. No sooner had he touched it than he is assaulted with whispers of magic, its gentle tendrils creeping up his palms, making his heart beat louder and his mind to be briefly clouded with fog. He recoils and throws the thing away from him as he gasps for breath. Aghast, he looks at his pants and sees an unprecedented hardness. He gulps.

The intention of Lady Allison becomes clear. The bag probably contains a potent stimulant that would need only be in physical contact with the intended partner. Paired with seduction that someone of Lady Allison’s beauty could provide, it would be a strong combination that could truly ruin a man’s reputation if the results are used against him. Merlin has read of one such enchanted mixture from one of his many researches while looking for cures for previous love enchantments Arthur’s been subjected to. Good thing he managed not to touch the contents directly or it would have affected him more strongly and probably for longer.

Merlin frowns. Lady Allison is another one in the growing list of people trying to enchant the king to marriage. Another one that Merlin will have to prevent.  He sets the ensorcelled bag upon the stone floor to set it on fire with his magic when he hears footsteps and muffled chatter from outside the doors. Quickly, he puts the bag inside his pockets and pretends to be doing his normal duties.  There is a slight prickle from where the bag is nearest his body which he tries to ignore.

Within short moments, Lady Allison is in the room with Arthur bidding her a good rest. At the sounds of Merlin’s scuffling to move faster to get to burning the bag before the lady discovers it missing, the pair turns to him, Arthur immediately morphing his expression in one of disdain.

“Merlin, why are you still here?” he asks exasperatedly, then looks Lady Allison in the eyes. “Please accept my apologies for my servant. He is quite the bumbling fool,  and given the short notice we had of your arrival, I had no choice but to have sent him to attend to attend to your needs. Worry not as I would send a better hand immediately.”

The lady chuckles daintily behind long tapered fingers, assuring the king that no offense was taken and that it is really their fault for arriving without prior notice. After the exchange, during which Merlin waited shifting foot to foot in unease, still feeling the magic tingling through him, Arthur gives Merlin a look while tilting his head as signal to follow him. He complies gratefully, shuffling quickly behind and gently closing the door behind him.

It takes them a couple of paces before Arthur stops in his tracks, making Merlin mirror the motion. When Arthur turns, that is when Merlin realizes his predicament. While he has escaped being found out by Lady Allison, he has inadvertently trapped himself in possibly a harder position. Given the nature of the sorcery, it truly is not the wisest move to find himself alone with Arthur who he already has inappropriate reactions to without the need of any magical enhancements. He should’ve immediately made an excuse, he thinks, since bailing out now when there is that determined confrontational glint in Arthur’s eyes would be met with much suspicion.

He briefly considers telling Arthur of his discovery, but that would mean revealing and acknowledging his embarrassing predicament, which he believes is more than he could currently take. The matter of Lady Allison must be taken care of with secrecy much like the way he had always dealt with things before magic was once again accepted in the kingdom.

“Merlin.” Arthur begins and Merlin is brought back to his current problem. Being conscious of the situation only serves to make him hyper aware of the circumstances, of Arthur standing  roughly a meter and a half away from him, wanting to talk to him-- something he had missed the past couple of days-- with his arms crossed on his chest, emphasizing their bulk. Arthur licks his lips in preparation for what seems to be a tensed, rehearsed speech. Merlin follows it with his eyes and prays Arthur does not notice.

“There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.” Arthur tries to look him in the eye, but Merlin thinks it wiser to avoid it. He instead directs his gaze to the floor, which leads him to inevitably look up to Arthur’s feet and then to fixate on his well-formed calves. He does not do it on purpose, but he finds himself unable to stop.

He does not notice that Arthur has not continued until after several moments and there is an awkward sounding clearing of throat.

“Well, Merlin. I have taken notice that you have been acting a bit strangely these past few days. You seem…less loud, more focused on fulfilling your duties, and quite honestly, better at them too.” Merlin knows what Arthur is talking about regardless of the slight pounding that he begins hearing in his head, but while this is so, he knows that he must avoid revealing the true reasons behind his actions as long as he possibly can. Given the current circumstances, he is most unprepared to face such predicaments that his confession would bring.

“Thank you, Sire.” He answers, briefly meeting Arthur’s eyes before moving them away again, now to focus on Arthur’s broad chest.

Arthur feels a little disconcerted with the answer, somewhat off-balance. It is not the answer he is expecting. He shifts his weight and places his hands on his waist instead, knotting his forehead and contorting his face the way he does when he is trying to properly express something to best address a delicate situation. “ That is not what I meant. Well, yes I meant that, and I am overjoyed that after all these years, it has been proven that there is hope in you yet. However, … you have changed.”

The shifting of Arthur’s weight has Merlin putting his attentions to Arthur’s waist, the slight jut of his hip, and the curve of his body as his torso meets his thighs and buttocks. He unconsciously bites his lips. “I take it that I changed for the better then?” he asks distractedly.

Arthur stares dumbfounded at his servant for a few moments. He thought that confronting Merlin about his recent change of heart would be hard, but this is harder. In want of gauging Merlin, he finally gives more attention to Merlin himself rather than his nerves and notices his now apparent distraction. He also notes the slight flush on his face, the shortness of his breath, and the slight trembling which wracks his thin form.  Now that he thinks of it, Merlin’s voice also seemed a bit rough when he answered him.

“No, Merlin. That’s not what I mean. Hey.” Arthur crosses the small distance between him and Merlin in one smooth step, placing his palms on the other’s shoulders and giving him a little shake. “Are you okay? You’re flushed.”

Merlin startles visibly from the sudden contact. He raises his head and is suddenly faced with Arthur’s concern and a warm calloused palm upon his forehead. He shivers.

“I think you ought to see Gaius. Our talk can wait.”

“Yeah…” Merlin replies breathlessly as he feels himself vibrating in place. It is as if he were cold when he feels hot all over. The sheer want that accompanies it is something that Merlin has never felt before. Uncontrollable, as if he were not human but simply an animal running on instincts. He needs to run.

But the look on Arthur’s face, the frown on his face, the tightness of his lips, and his wavering right hand stopped a few inches from reaching Merlin’s arm  do not allow immediate retreat. He knows Arthur truly cares for he has a big heart that is capable of loving a whole kingdom including its one lovelorn servant under the influence of some spell.

“Yeah, I should see Gaius.” Merlin takes a deep breath and gathers the courage and control to take a hold of Arthur’s forearm, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. He lets the contact last its appropriate lifespan and then a bit more. He is not that good after all. “I’m sorry, Arthur.” He says and means it. He is sorry, truly, that his feelings has grown and has become an almost tangible force between them. He wants to reassure Arthur that everything would be okay, but he is not sure that it will be. The only thing he can promise is that they will confront this. One way or another, he has to explain the changes that have happened whether because things would be back to normal or because they could not. The truth is optional. “We will talk about this, Arthur. Just…not now.”

Arthur nods at him and stays rooted to the spot as he follows Merlin’s figure with his gaze as he goes.

Merlin rushes away. He seems to be doing that often after confrontations with Arthur. He hates it. He remembers the days when he can comfortably share space with Arthur, spend time with him cajoling, teasing, sharing  rare counsels that has been growing more and more often before this whole dilemma, having fun without the fear of betraying Arthur’s friendship.

Gaius is not in their rooms when he arrives. Just as well. He makes quick work in burning the small bag on the stone floor and goes to his room, slamming the door shut. He leans his weight on it as his knees begin to tremble and lose their strength the moment he finds a private moment. With quick, unsteady motions, he fumbles with his trousers’ laces until they gave. Slithering his hand in, he takes firm hold of his cock. It only takes a few tugs before he is coming, splattering a bit of cum on his shirt and the floor in front of him.

He cries after.


	4. Dealing with It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don’t think I have an excuse to how long this took to post. I’m sorry I am such an unreliable writer, but I do still hope that you guys enjoy the continuation of my story. :)

Chapter 3

**Dealing with It**

Merlin stared at his ceiling that night, totally spent even after the effects of the spell had waned and finally disappeared. Tonight, more so than ever, he has come to realize the magnitude of his feelings for Arthur, confronted with it in an aggressive enough manner that he is left with no illusions about his influence on the matter.

He has dried his tears and now, lying on his back on his thin mattress with his hands clasped tightly upon his stomach, he tried to think of what he has to do to face this. Arthur has made it clear that he intended to get some answers from Merlin, and Merlin promised him some. There is no running away from the situation the same way he has been the past couple of days.  
There is no easy way, if there is any, to reveal his true worries without putting his and Arthur’s relationship in a precarious edge that could end up shattering them in the end. He isn’t willing to lose his place beside Arthur, that has been clear to him from the very beginning. There has to be a better way to deal with the situation.

Inadvertently, he finds himself comparing his situation once again with that of Lancelot’s. The man never escaped Gwen’s attentions when it is freely given him, an obvious sparkle in his eyes when they speak. Merlin continues to wonder how he is able to face what he badly wants without completely messing everything up in a covetous act.

But perhaps what matters most now, given the circumstances, is that Lancelot is able to do it. Merlin may not be a knight, but he thinks he can try at being noble and brave. In fact, he had been multiple times in pursuit of Arthur’s protection and the forming of Albion. Now would simply be another one of the instances he has to gather his will and courage for Arthur and the future that would bring peace to the kingdom.

Arthur would be receiving his answer tomorrow, and whether or not it is the truth would not matter because Merlin would no longer run away. He will stay as Arthur’s friend and servant. As it should be.

He hopes it is enough.  
***

Arthur sighs as he sips wine from his goblet. It has been three days since he confronted Merlin, but he has yet to properly talk to him again. Lady Allison and her father’s visit was cut short, but their time in the palace unexpectedly took more of his time than he’d originally intended. The day of their arrival, the Lady seemed to have gotten a case of fever but had refused to see Gaius, rather choosing to be left alone after consulting with her father, the Lord Antheon. He wondered if the palace was under some threat of sickness since Merlin had also shown signs of fever the night before, but when no other cases had been reported, he let it go. He had, then after, been suddenly barraged by Lord Antheon with offers of marriage liaisons in the guise of political discussion. Now that he is king, he had heard his fair share of such persuasion and he hated every second of it.

The second day had seen Lady Allison aggressively vying for his attention. He had indulged her in the morning out of courtesy and to show his concern for her condition, but she seemed healthy albeit a bit nervous. Might be because of what they came here to do, and once again, he felt a slight nauseating feeling of how royalty, the people who were supposed to be the most honourable in the kingdom, are forced to offer themselves for peace instead of simply making informed decisions and agreements like most people do to arrive at mutually beneficial actions and conclusions. By afternoon, he had found himself making excuses, throwing himself at his knights and arranging for sudden strategic discussions about the best way to patrol the borders and keep the people safe from bandits.

On the third day, Lord Antheon seemingly got the message, settling the affairs of both their kingdoms in a rushed, white-lipped manner and claiming that an urgent matter had come up. There was little wonder as to the lie since no one crossed the palace gates unaccounted for to allow a messenger from another kingdom with an official message to go unnoticed. He let it go, as he himself was getting tired of the niceties they have had to endure when the intent was clearly elsewhere, and arranged a banquet to send them off.

So now here he was, eagerly awaiting the end of the long night. He can see Merlin having a discussion with one of the serving boys, and he feels his hackles rise up a little at the thought of Merlin being lively with anyone and everyone except him. From him Merlin seems to have taken a step back, distanced himself for some inexplicable reason Arthur does not understand. He takes some comfort in the knowledge that the excitement around him would die down once the guests have gone, enough so that he would be able to finally see about that awaited conversation with Merlin.

It is nearing midnight when he is able to properly send off Lord Antheon and Lady Allison to their chambers for their last night at Camelot. He calls for Merlin to attend to him as he retreats from the banquet hall, preparing to sleep off his mental exhaustion due to the utter boredom the night has become. Merlin is barely at his heels when Arthur opens his decides to speak. “Well that was exhausting. It would have been much more bearable if it wasn’t such a waste of time. All those negotiations could have been done without them personally coming here.”

Merlin scoffs a little as they stop in front of the king’s chambers. “Well, with the way Lady Allison was throwing herself at you all of yesterday, I’d say they had other negotiations in mind.”

Arthur frowns while Merlin proceeds to open the door for him, promptly starting to divest him of his cloak and taking his crown and sword. After he had confronted Merlin about his sudden change, Merlin seemed to have taken it as a cue to go back to his previous attitude, even jibing him once in a while like he used to. Arthur appreciates it, but that does not take away his need to know what had transpired in Merlin’s head for him to make the change in the first place. Also, despite the man’s best efforts, there is still a certain awkwardness in his actions that wasn’t there before that he wants to get to the bottom of. Loathe as he is to admit it, he misses the comfort they usually share when alone together.

“It worries me how these people can so easily offer their daughters to me as if there is no other way in the name of making alliances and negotiations.” He says from where he now stands behind his dressing screen, taking off the rest of his ensemble and holding out his hand out to the side so that Merlin could hand him his bed clothes. By gods, he wanted to finally take some rest.

He feels the soft lumps of cloth in his hand, hearing Merlin shuffling on the other side of the screen. Pulling on his pants, he waits for Merlin’s response, because he always has one, at least until the onset of his strange behaviour. Pulling on his shirt, he briefly thinks of how almost all of their interactions now lead him to that one particular issue, making him evaluate all the differences that happened with Merlin, making him realize just how much he relied on his servant’s behaviour and how much he has grown to appreciate it no matter how idiotic.

"You always did insist, even to Uther, how you'd only marry for love." he hears Merlin softly say. Straightening his clothing, he walks out from the cover of the screen and sees Merlin staring into the fire with a pensive look on his face. He thinks he sees a little smile quirking the corner of his lips, made easier to notice since he has always been quite expressive with his mouth,-- and he can't believe he even knows these kind of things about Merlin now. 

"Marriages are often only good for love." Arthur says from beside Merlin who startles, apparently unaware that he had come so close. He looks at Arthur with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, a flush spreading quickly from his cheeks and ears. Arthur observes this all curiously, intently even, somewhat fascinated at the unprompted response. He briefly wonders what Merlin has been thinking about to have elicited that reaction and if maybe he could make him do it more often. Really, the color looks good on his pale skin.

Merlin takes a step back and lets out an unsure smile, making Arthur notice how near he was standing from him, barely a foot side by side made seemingly closer when they had faced each other. Suddenly, the air between them gains an weight as they are suddenly unwilling to look away but know nothing of what to say next. Arthur's mind seems to have blanked, simply taking in Merlin who is fidgeting with his stiffened limbs, making him look even more awkward than he usually already is. He feels calm like this, spending time with his manservant friend, something he has been missing since the beginning of his last quest. He feels like basking a little.

"Um. Is there anything else you will be needing?" Merlin finally breaks the silence and Arthur's head suddenly clears, turning away with a hand running through the thick strands of his hair, realizing how pathetic and weird he must have looked, staring at Merlin like that. That was probably the reason why he looks a little like he wants to run from the room.

He clears his throat. "That would be all for tonight, thank you." There is a certain look of relief in Merlin's eyes and in the way his shoulders sag a little as he makes his way to the door. Arthur does not take it personally because he himself would have found himself a tad bit strange given what he just did, and in light of the tiring festivities, both of them needs to rest. He follows Merlin with his eyes though, taking in the nuances of his slightly stiffer and longer strides, wondering if that is indeed all there is to it.

When Merlin trips on seemingly his own two feet, he lets out a bark of laughter, having witnessed every second of the disaster that is his servant. "You are such a clumsy mess, Merlin." he says good naturedly, the insult sliding down his tongue like an endearment. 

Merlin stops in his steps and when he turns his head, he has a sheepish grin on his face. "And you love me for it." he says.

Arthur's eyes crinkles as he smiles back at him, his hands on his hips and shaking his head a little in disbelief before confessing that, "Yes. God only knows why, but I do." He does not know what brings it about. He normally would not dare to say such things out loud unless under duress, but here he is openly sharing his sentiments and risking his servant misunderstanding him and giving him more incentive not to follow his orders. Merlin certainly needs no more encouragement for his stubbornness. Arthur would not know how to handle him. Well, it had been a strange couple of days.

Merlin turns his head quickly but his large ears poking out of his head betray him, reddening at the wake of his complement. Arthur feels slightly aghast at himself, but somehow, he feels more smug about it. Clearly, he has won some sort of contest of wits by turning Merlin's cheekiness on him, he thinks.

"Go to sleep, Arthur." Merlin says without looking at him, clearly embarrassed, and leads himself out the door. However, before he has completely closed it behind him, Arthur calls.

"And Merlin. We're talking tomorrow."

Merlin doesn't reply but the short halt in his movements makes Arthur know that he'd been heard. It has been a long night, and there is no need to make it any longer. Tomorrow would suffice. For now, Arthur contents himself with the company of his soft mattress, pillows, and sheets.

Arthur does not barrage Merlin with his questions immediately when he is woken the next morning. He knows that such a conversation could potentially lead to him expressing his embarassing feelings to his manservant that he is unwilling to take on before he has spent a good few hours into the day to clear his head and build a steel temperance. Instead, he teases Merlin about his bed head--he obviously woke up late-- and ate his breakfast while detailing his plans for the day. Merlin does not bring up Arthur's promise, and goes with little protestations when asked to accompany him to the training grounds. He may be postponing the talk, but he is not willing to let Merlin escape him. Somehow, now that he knows there is finally time and a definite plan of action, he feels the need to just do it.

When they arrive at the grounds where the knights have gathered for their morning session with the king, Arthur spots Guinevere also there, sitting on a bench placed on the side together with the small crowd that had gathered to watch the best of Camelot train. She does not immediately sees him, looking up at Lancelot who is smiling at her while telling some moving tale that has him moving his hands about and Guinevere laughing softly, a twinkle in her eyes.

For a moment, Arthur stares at her, appreciates her beauty, her gentleness, and her sweetness. She is the woman he has given his affections to, he is suddenly reminded. It has been a while since he has seen her exuding such vibrancy, and he feels a certain contentment settle upon him seeing her like this again.

One by one, the knights takes notice of his presence, and soon enough, they were gathering around him. It takes Lancelot a little longer to respond, but when he does, he looks a little startled, then a little sobered. When Guinevere follows his gaze, her eyes met Arthur’s, and to Arthur’s surprise, notes the same reaction. He finds it strange, that suddenly, she is once again just Gwen, his friend and sometimes counsel. He takes a moment to assess something that has slowly revealing itself to him. She remains beautiful and worth all of his kingdom, but her looking at him, she does not seem to know that.

Guinevere sends a small smile his way. It is sincere but comparably lacking its former earnestness. He lifts the corners of his mouth in return, lifting a hand to acknowledge her. He watches as she bids Lancelot goodbye with a quick touch on his arm, and she turns away towards the palace.

It takes Arthur a moment to regain his bearings.

Merlin shuffles beside him and his attention is brought back to the present proceedings. He notes a touch of restlessness in Merlin’s stance and movements, moving his weight subtly from one foot to the other. He is about to ask about it when Sir Leon greets him loudly, prompting the other knights to do the same. The session has begun and he would have to wait to see to Merlin.

He gives his instructions, pairing the knights with those whom he thought would show their weaknesses in order to address them. He’s thought up of this the past nights and the names of the pairs is announced in quick order, He finds himself paired with Sir Erik, and soon enough loses himself in a mock battle, trying to point out figuratively and literally with his sword the openings in the other knight’s defenses. For a moment, he is able to calm his thoughts regarding what he’d seen and what is waiting for him later when he takes to his word with Merlin.

It is a hot day, and when the sun reaches a high spot in the sky, the knights are already sweating buckets, their groans louder and their shouts less vigorous. Arthur lifts an arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead, looking around at his men. Deciding that they’ve all had enough for the day, he shouts for their attention and dismisses them to the sound of relieved sighs and bodies falling to the ground for rest.

He turns to his heels and sees Merlin already moving towards him with a waterskin which he takes gratefully, taking large gulps and exhaling loudly after. He catches Merlin looking at him a little fondly with a slight smile before their eyes meet and the expression vanishes behind a scowl and grumbling about sweaty, smelly kings that should have known better than to be out in the sun this time of day.

“Merlin, you can’t know the circumstances in which a battle would commence, so it is important to train in different situations.” He replies a little condescendingly.

“No one would want to go out in this weather, much less fight. I feel like my skin’s going to burn off.” Merlin rambles as he helps Arthur out of his chain mail and other battle accessories. Arthur snorts at this before taking advantage of Merlin’s nearness to examine the reddened skin on his nose.

Merlin freezes and meets Arthur’s eyes before quickly settling his gaze to the right of Arthur. “ What is it?” he asks, unsure.

Arthur tsks. “In your case, Merlin, I would suggest you actually get more sun. I swear you have more delicate skin than most princesses I’ve met.” He lifts his right hand and puts a finger on Merlin’s cheek, tentatively dragging it across the skin. “ You’re red like a blushing maiden.”

Merlin takes a step back, reddening further. “ I’m no maiden. I am a manly man. That is what I am.” He protests.

Arthur laughs aloud. “ You certainly are. If manly men were people that would be bending and swaying with the wind.”

Merlin huffs at this. “Just because I’m not made of walls of muscle like a golem does not mean that I’m not powerful. I have magic, you know.”

Merlin has a point and Arthur knows this, but he simply smirks and tries his best to look down his nose at him. "Whatever makes you feel better, Merlin." he says with teasing in his voice. He turns and heads towards the castle, rubbing his stomach as he does so. "Come and prepare me my lunch. I'm starving." He hears muttering behind him but he pays it no mind.

Lunch is a comfortable affair, with Arthur and Merlin easily exchanging banter as they had always done before the strangeness of the past week had begun. It sets something inside Arthur at ease, his metaphorical hackles soothed with the familiarity and missed companionship. 

Nonetheless, Arthur knows that he cannot simply let bygones be bygones if he wanted to avoid something of the like happening again. If there is one thing he had learned as a king, it is that denial of something does not make it go away. At least not forever. He takes this to heart, and by the time he has taken his last bite and is sipping the final drops of his wine, he resolves to finally confront Merlin.

"Merlin, why don't you sit with me?" he says, and he sees from his peripheral vision how Merlin tenses a bit before letting out a small sigh that makes him slump in surrender. Merlin does not question him and takes a seat on one of the chairs at the dining table. He fiddles with his hands for a few seconds waiting.

Arthur puts down his goblet. "So? Is there anything you want to tell me?" 

"What exactly do you want to know?" Merlin asks. it would seem that Arthur would need to spell out the situation after all, and while he does not look forward to explaining his disdain at Merlin's...improvement, he knows not to delay any longer. Now how to word this to not make it not sound as strange as it is in his head?

Arthur clears his throat. "Well. You have...become a little bit more...thorough with your duties as of late. I was simply wondering what has brought this on."

It takes Merlin a few seconds to answer, but when he did, his voice takes on a softer note, a little uncertainty. "Well, you're always complaining about how sloppy I am. I...I figured it's time I tried to do better."

Arthur's brows creases at this, having a feeling that what Merlin is saying is not all there is to the situation. "Why now? What happened that made you think to do this when you refused to do so the many years I've known you?" Thinking that he might have sounded too authoritative and like the king instead of Merlin's friend, he adds in a softer tone. "It's weird, Merlin. It's not you."

"Well... you came back! And I..." Merlin looks hassled, fiercely refusing to meet Arthur's eyes and his intertwined fingers on the table clasping each other tight until they were white.

"I...came back?" Arthur asks, a little confounded.

Merlin huffs out a breath and the voice that comes out is a little more hesitant, a little quieter. "You didn't bring me with you, and...you were late." he finishes. He does not raise his head to see Arthur, whose eyes widen slightly before a flush of pleasure colors his cheeks, 

"Were you...worried about me, Merlin?”

Merlin does not answer, and instead opts to frown deeply at the table top. Arthur stares dumbfounded for a while. Of course, he'd known that people worried about him, including Merlin. He is the king after all, and a friend to him. Moreover, if the man were in the same situation, no matter his trust in Merlin's power as a sorcerer, he is sure that he would worry for him as well. However, to know how deeply it had affected Merlin, enough for him to make amends, there is something inside Arthur's core that is suddenly vibrating in inexplicable happiness for his friend's affection.

He cannot stop the wide smile that spreads on his face, and he claps Merlin's shoulder, prompting him to look up, startled, at him and then at the hand on him which Arthur kept there, slightly squeezing in reassurance. 

"I cannot promise not to do it again, Merlin. But I can promise you that I will do everything I can to not be “late” again." chuckling a little he ruffles Merlin's head, making him squawk, immediately batting his hands away.

"Hey!"

"Well, now that things are sorted out, have you eaten?"

Arthur calls for a serving girl that has been loitering to bring another plate of food.

"You don't have to!" Merlin begins, but Arthur waves him off. When the food arrives, steaming hot with a large piece of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and assorted vegetables, Merlin's stomach rumbles audibly, making him smile sheepishly at Arthur before digging in without further ado. 

With his hands beneath his chin, he watches Merlin eat, a small smile on his face the entire time.

Things return to normal after that. Well, as close to normal as it has been since after his return. Merlin has mostly returned to being the cheeky, seemingly incorrigible manservant that he was, except that now, Arthur knows that Merlin can be like all the other servants but Arthur doesn't want him to be. On the now rarer occasions that Arthur does not wake with dawn, he still insists on waking Arthur up in the most unsettling of ways, either by letting the sun burn his eyes out while shouting a good morning, which automatically makes the morning not so, or shaking him hard until he wakes up feeling like he is being attacked by a wild animal, Other times, the banging of metals and furniture and Merlin's curses as he maneuvers whatever he has disturbed bring Arthur out from his slumber, and when he it does, Arthur slumps down again in surrender.

 

He feels inexplicably happier. He knows so by the lightness in his chest, the extra patience with which he finds himself dealing with things, and the easy smile that comes to his face at the very antics of Merlin, and in general, the people around him. 

He is at the plaza in front of the palace, patting the head of his horse and getting ready for his regular patrol when Guenevere finds him. She is smiling a little hesitant smile, her posture a bit shy with her hands behind her, head tilted slightly downwards allowing her to look at him from beneath her lashes. Arthur takes in the sight and immediately finds himself feeling a small joy blossom in him.

"Guenevere." he says in greeting. Arthur approaches her and takes her hand in his. "What brings you here?" 

Guenevere looks around them then leans toward him. "Do you have some time?"

Arthur frowns slightly at Gwen's subdued manner. "I'm about to go on patrol, but I guess I can still spare a couple of minutes." At that, she smiles at him and turns her hand in his so that she could pull him inside the castle.

Arthur is perplexed. "Where are we going?"

Gwen does not stop. "Somewhere we can talk. In private."

With her words, Arthur feels anxiousness build up inside him. What discussion could possibly require complete privacy? Thoughts of secret plans and treason comes to his mind, and he feels his heart beating a little faster. Is there another one of his trusted that Guenevere, reliable Guenevere, has found to be lacking in loyalty?

The thud of wooden doors sound behind them and Gwen finally turns to face him, a worried look marring the usually pleasant expression on her face. 

"What's wrong?" Arthur asks, reaching out to touch Gwen's cheek with his knuckles. To his surprise, Gwen turns away and steps back. 

"I see that you're feeling happier these past few days." Gwen comments, startling Arthur at the turn of the conversation.

"I...Why yes. Remember when I told you that Merlin was acting weird and that in turn, it was making me feel uncomfortable? Well, we've sorted it out. Apparently, Merlin was just worried about me and had this strange notion that he should suddenly do my every whim." Gwen giggles a bit and this lightens Arthur's mood slightly. " I don't think I will ever completely understand Merlin!" he continues, letting out a small disbelieving laugh himself.

"Arthur." Gwen begins again. " I'm glad to see you acting like this. I'm glad that you're happy. It's just that..." 

Arthur waits while Gwen looks away, clasping her hands tightly in front of her skirt. When she looks back, there is a glassy look to her eyes and a slight frown on her face. "I don't think it has much to do with me anymore." 

That is preposterous! Arthur thinks and says just that. "Gwen. Guenevere, what are you talking about? Of course you're part of my happiness! For god's sake, I love you!" He clasps Gwen by her shoulders and forces her to look him in the eyes, trying to make her see his sincerity.

Gwen raises her hand and uses it to cup Arthur's cheek. "I know, Arthur. I know that. And I love you, too. But don't think that how much we love each other is enough anymore. You said I was part of your happiness, and you are part of mine too, but...there are people in both our lives who are a larger part of it."

Arthur remains silent as Gwen brushes his cheek with her thumb. There is a changing wind that passes between them through the breaths that mingle in front of them, and they both absorb the implications of what had just been said.

It takes a while but then Arthur takes Gwen's hand from his face and gives it back to her with a last squeeze.

"I...may understand what you mean. I'm sorry, Guenevere. That it must come to this...I--" he scrambles for words to relay his feelings, but Gwen only smiles back at him, her wide mouth stretching in a loving, understanding expression stopping his thoughts, and he finds himself smiling sadly back. 

In a second, Gwen has her arms around him, embracing him and he could only put his arms around her in response, bringing her closer and smelling her hair in deep breaths.

"Arthur?" Gwen murmurs at the side of his neck with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"We can remain friends, can't we? I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Arthur closes his eyes, immediately having a picture of the woman in his arms in his mind. Her gentle eyes, her reassuring smiles, her warm embraces, and the conviction in her voice. He smiles and pushes them apart to look her in the eyes. 

"I couldn't either. Of course, we will still be friends."

 

Patrol that day is, for lack of a better word, pensive. While Arthur studies his surroundings, unwilling to let anything that might endanger the kingdom escape his notice, his mind is also silently thinking over what had just transpired and the things that have led to it. There is a sort of calm, a welcome silence he didn't know was kept at bay by the niggling promise he made with Gwen that long time ago he felt the responsibility to fulfill. 

He thinks of Gwen, her beauty, her grace, her wisdom, and most importantly, her kindness and bravery. There is no question why he fell in love with her when he did, a young boy trying to find a completing strength to help carry the burdens of a kingdom to be his to rule. 

Maybe then, it was enough. He truly felt his dependence on her reliable touch, her soothing voice every time he needed reassurance or an insistent objection on his foolish whims. Gwen is still all the woman she was then and more, but now the emotions have quieted when he learned he can still have all that she offered him freely without having to change a thing. Without marriage. He stops the slow pacing of his horse and ponders. Perhaps that was the reason for the long engagement? That long before he has acknowledged it, his heart first knew and would not allow him to wed despite his mind decidedly willing to do it.

Slightly urging the horse on again, he thinks of what Gwen said. 

/"But I don't think that how much we love each other is enough anymore."/

He wonders what would be enough. What can truly complete his happiness?

/"You didn't bring me with you, and...you were late."/

Merlin's shy admittance and the resulting leap of incredulous joy it brought Arthur at the realization of what he was truly implying comes to mind and he feels he lips lift...

...only to stop mid-way to a smile. 

What the bloody hell?!

He shakes his head, his rear guards looking at his back in wonder. 

"Hey, Arthur, you finally losing it?" asks Gwaine who has been uncharacteristically silent during the patrol. He'd say he was respectful of his mood, but then it is Gwaine. He was probably just hungover. It would not have been the first time.

" It's nothing." he replies. " I was thinking about how I'd love to have a pint after this."

"Ei, how amazing it is that I had been thinking the same thing! Wanna have a round at the pub later?" Gwaine immediately says back, riding a bit faster and holding a hand to Arthur's shoulder once they were side by side. 

"Yeah, sure." 

Gwaine whoops loudly, probably since Arthur always ends up paying the tab in the end.

***

"Merlin, can you hand me the Yarrow." Gaius commands while he tries to focus on the grinding of ingredients he is to later give the soldier that got wounded in a ruckus at the market earlier.. "Merlin." he repeats when he does not get an immediate response. 

To his irritation, he finds himself raising his eyes and stopping his hands from his work to look for his missing apprentice. Well, at least missing mentally given the blank look on the boy's face as he stares at the tabletop in front of him.

Gaius leans forward on his palms and raises his voice, "MERLIN!".

Merlin visibly startles, the hand on his palm slapping loudly on the table surface. "Yes, Gaius!" He replies, focusing his eyes to the puzzled face of the old man,

"I said, hand me the Yarrow." he indicates, waving his hand vaguely to the shelf where various ingredients were stored. Merlin rushed to follow the order, but he has already piqued Gaius' interest.

"What is wrong with you, boy? You've been out of sorts lately. Has Arthur been overworking you again? I swear the king means well, but sometimes his horseplay takes too much toll!”

Merlin feels a little pleased at how Gaius moved to defend him first before the king himself, but he also feels the compulsion to defend Arthur even though he is the unknowing cause of his current distraction. "It's not Arthur's fault, Gaius. I'm just feeling...hungry. Perhaps we should have an early dinner today?"

Gaius doubts that is the whole of it but the hopeful expression on Merlin's face willing him to believe made him give in. He sighed. "Well, go prepare it then. I'll just have this finished. The poor man can't handle a small wound, he swears he'd die without my medicine."

The two of them shares a chuckle.

As Merlin is left on his own devices and waiting as he heats the porridge Gaius has made earlier on the day and placing bread on top of the cover to make it warm, he goes back to the previous track of his thoughts, a track that's become well tread the past few days.

Arthur. It's always Arthur. When the decision of going back to the way it was was made for him by a worried Arthur, he had naturally dreaded the consequences of his extended exposure to the source of his desire, flinched to think of the hurt that will come with Arthur's unknowing and friendly manner. 

However, the results were comparatively lighter than he'd ever thought. The initial pleasure on Arthur's face when all was revealed set the mood, made his heart jump and not in the nervous manner it has become used to but in genuine happiness and warmth that he was able to cause such an expression. That had been his first clue, that maybe, it would be okay after all, even if he stayed at Arthur's side. It was only compounded when Arthur became more lively, more willing to kid with him, as if his distance had suddenly endeared him to the king. He accepted all that he can get, and it was almost as if he had forgotten the complete joy of their camaraderie when he had realized he had fallen in love and was only rediscovering it when truly, it was what had led to his unusual affections in the first place.

He thinks on Lancelot’s words and finally begins to acknowledge it fully, to understand it. How he can stay with Arthur despite all that he is feeling. He knows he will sooner than later get hurt again without Arthur even knowing, but he feels that as long as he never forgets the feeling of them together, finding comfort and laughter and warmth in each other no matter in what sort of light, he could survive anything.

He is more sure now than ever before that his destiny is tied with Arthur, and nothing could break that bond.

He breaks the bread and sets the pieces on the two plates on the table and stirs the porridge before scooping some on two bowls and calling out to Gaius. 

Merlin comes to peace that night unknowing that on a little pub just east of the castle, Arthur is about to have his ground shaken not unlike Merlin’s was only a few weeks prior.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four

Taking it the Wrong Way 

 

The knights, as they are wont to do, creates a racket when they enter in their all-masculine glory. As they walk to the quickly cleared table near the bar keep, awe tinged murmurs about the king and his company immediately begins while some of the women and men compliments them on their heights, toned muscles, and Gwaine's hair. 

It takes a few minutes before they all settled down with their food and drink of choice listed and being prepared in a mad rush behind the bar. 

Arthur takes it all in, the raucous laughing of his most trusted men at the almost prerequisite tall tales of Gwaine, something that they all learned to wait for and appreciate as the entertainment they prove to be each time they sat down together for some quality time or while they take their rest from their long and tiring journeys.

This time it is about some red haired maiden he met at some barn he hid at on one of his many adventures when one of the men he beat at some gamble decided that he was a cheat and chased after him down the roads, shouting for his money back. A common trend in his tales, it would seem, so Arthur is able to allow his mind to wander while still being able to keep up with telling, nodding and cheering with the rest when it is appropriate. 

Apparently, he should've paid more attention since by the end of the evening, Gwaine is considerably more talkative and decidedly less coherent. Percy and Leon were the only ones left with him, and in a quick decision, he speaks up. " I'm paying the tab tonight, so you two deal with him." He stands up, leaving no room for argument, hearing silent groans as he makes his way to the barkeep to pay for their considerable meal and drinks. He leaves the man a huge tip for their continued good service.

He follows up on Percy and Leon, with Gwaine now perched in between the two, each of them taking an arm each to support the man. Arthur sighs at the Gwaine who is now not more than a useless bag of blabbering meat.

"You should really learn to control your alcohol, Gwaine." he says to the back of the man’s head for which he receives a garbled reply about drinking and Arthur paying, and making the most of it. It was a miracle he understood, but he guesses he's gotten used to it "If only Merlin were here, I'm sure he'd be able to float you away, and this would all be a lot easier." 

Gwaine tries to look at him in futile, turning his neck as far as it could go. "Merlin!" he exclaims and smiles a little sadly. " Saw 'im 'ere the 'ther night. Poor lad was heart--*hiccup* -broken."

This garners Arthur's attention, and a question follows from his tongue without him having time to reconsider. " What do you mean?" he asks, taking his steps a little faster so that he could walk ahead of the three and look back at Gwaine's face for a proper conversation, if it were possible with the other's current state. 

"Found 'im by himself, drinkin'. Told me he had to forget this--this man." 

" Man? Don't you mean a woman?" Leon clarifies, now also looking raptly at the drunk man. 

Gwaine shakes his head but soon realizes his mistake with a quiet "whoah" as his world sways for a moment before righting itself. "No. No, 'm pretty sure t'was a man. Offer'd to get 'im a woman, but he refused." 

"You mean Merlin's a queer?" Leon asks. When no one immediately answers him, he looks at Arthur. "Did you know?" 

Arthur shakes his head bewildered.

Leon lets out a breath. "Well I'll be damned." 

Percy, who had remained silent during the conversation, speaks up in quick defense of their friend. "Nothing wrong with being queer." he says simply.

"Yeah!" Gwaine cheers. " I myself have..." 

The three knights continue to move forward as Gwaine begins another tale of his exploits, this time with a youthful man with the mouth of a maiden, and the joys he's found as he embraced an open nature.

Away from their notice which was taken in by Gwaine's drunken story-telling, Arthur walks a little slower, Leon's query about Merlin's...inclinations baffling him more than he expected, his mind taken into shock and immediately replaying all that he knew about Merlin that could have hinted about this huge revelation to him. Indeed, Merlin is a bit gangly and never showed much love for sports or athleticism, and he had a certain gentleness about him that Arthur can't place. ...And those lips of his that would certainly be at par with that of Gwaine's one time paramour. 

"Mouth of a maiden..." his mind supplies as he licks his lips unconsciously. He shakes his head a bit. All those things are not telling enough, and that last one was simply coincidental as no one can choose what they are born with. 

Also, taking into consideration the time that Gwaine has seen Merlin at the tavern, it would be when Merlin was avoiding him, so he couldn't have noticed if Merlin had been seeing another man at the time.

'He didn't miss me too much after all.' He thinks with a bit of uncertain anger. He tries to shake it off, seeing as Merlin has his own life after all, but deciding nonetheless to try to pry things out of the other man when the opportunity presents itself. He's curious after all, and Merlin has already kept too many secrets from him. 

He looks up and finds that the others are already at a distance. 

He jogs up to them, determining to think about it more later that night. 

When he reaches them with his heart pounding a little too hard he hears it loud in his head, he blames it on the few yards he's just covered.

That night, despite the amount of alcohol he had imbibed, he finds himself alert atop his bed, limbs spread eagled and on top of the sheets after having found the night air too humid. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind goes back to his servant as it was wont to do often these days, and he can’t help but huff a little at the layers and layers of mystery that is Merlin, that in their long association, there were still things that the man can surprise him with even after what should’ve been the biggest revelation, which was Merlin’s magic. It still is, in a way, since as it were, Merlin’s magic constitutes such a large part of what makes Merlin Merlin. However, there is a rather significant reason why Merlin’s magic had been kept hidden from him, something which truthfully took time for him to fully understand. Merlin’s...inclinations, on the other hand, is something that he should’ve been able to share with someone he considers a true friend, is it not so? There is no reason for Merlin to keep it a secret from him just as he had his magic, kept it hidden to the point that he had not even heard a rumor or seen any hint of it. 

There were moments in the past when Arthur had thought that Merlin developed certain crushes on some of the female servants and even some of the visiting royalty. Nothing that came to fruition, but there none the less. However, if what Gawain had revealed were to be believed, then there is a high chance that he had been terribly wrong. Had Merlin been ogling men in his presence and he simply did not see it for what it is?

He shakes his head. Merlin is the type of person who is perfectly transparent unless it was important that he be not. Arthur would have noticed if Merlin were harboring attraction to some of the handsomer men of the kingdom.

Did Merlin think that Arthur would think any less of him just because he chooses to spend his time with men? There were a few people who disliked the practice and even some kingdoms who chose to condemn it since they believe it would decimate the population, but Camelot does not forbid it. In fact, he even knows some knights who indulge especially when left with no women in a long campaign.

In a shock that makes Arthur sit up fast, making things move a little strangely for a few seconds with the rush of blood and maybe some of that alcohol, he comes to a very disturbing thought.

Had Merlin been associating with one of his knights? It is not so far off given that anyone called a knight has a certain appealing strength to them. He should know with all the women that come out to watch and sigh when they go on their patrols. In fact, Merlin has become quite close with the knights since he had always insisted to come to missions and quests, stuck to Arthur’s side and protecting him.

Arthur unconsciously begins ticking names off his head. It couldn’t have been Gwaine, Leon, or Lancelot given their reaction earlier. Percy, perhaps with his quick defence, but he could think of no other damning hints. Maybe it was Sir Harry? He isn’t traditionally handsome, but he does have a charm to him, and he’d seen Merlin laughing with him that one time. Perhaps it was Sir Gareth? Even he had to admit that the man took good care of his body, and he remembers feeling a little irritated when he saw the man with his large arm slung around Merlin’s slim frame at the campsite, looking like he could crush Merlin if he chose to except Merlin was the one turning to him, whispering something before they both laughed loudly. It could also be…

Arthur thumps back into bed groaning and with his fists on his forehead in a sign of frustration. There is just so many possibilities and if he hadn’t took note of something before, he doubts he’ll be able to now. 

He is a bit disappointed that he is only discovering this now, a little horrified at the possibility that Merlin had been with someone he knew without him knowing, which is quite silly but he feels he should have been privy to such knowledge if anyone should be. They were...best friends, is what he’d like to think. 

With a little acid in his stomach, he imagines Merlin pinned under the large build of a faceless man, his long limbs splayed in his usual careless manner, his skin flushed and slightly redder at his arms and hips where the hands of the man would have digged in a little harder, his blue eyes darkened and his lips parted with breaths he would be finding hard to take,

He feels anger rise in him, feeling the Pendragon brand of protectiveness rise in him. Merlin may be one of the most powerful magicians in the land, but he remains a man with a pure heart that could easily be taken advantage of. He thinks of Merlin heartbroken, his eyes misty as he’d so rarely seen and drinking his woes away at the pub where Gwaine had seen him last, and it makes him want to hurt something. 

Someone. 

Merlin had been more than just his servant for years now and he feels that it is his duty to defend his virtue,-- his heart even. And he would fight for Merlin, if only Merlin gives him the chance.

As it is, he does not have a name to exact his vengeance on.

Rolling to his side, he closes his eyes and sighs, trying to relax his suddenly tense muscles. He would have to address this, but it won’t be tonight. 

It would seem that so soon after his last Merlin related dilemma had been solved, he would once again be trying to find ways to get to the man. 

Morning couldn’t have made it faster to Arthur. He is already dressed and waiting when Merlin knocks on the door, a brilliant smile lighting up his face when he sees Arthur standing by the window.

“You’re up!” he says needlessly, placing his load of food on the table. “Is there anything special happening today? I don’t think I’ve been told anything by the other servants.”

As far as Arthur is concerned, the mysterious man could be anyone from the kingdom. While Merlin is always expressly at his service, he simply cannot account for the time Merlin spends away on errands or during his free time, which, given his recently revealed magical powers, would be significantly longer than Arthur had previously thought.

However, he can try to sneak up on Merlin and follow him wherever he chooses to go, for surely a man in love would inevitably end up where the person he desires is. With this in mind, he had prepared himself with an excuse that would convince Merlin that he is relieved of his duties for the day.

“Nothing special is happening, Merlin. I simply wish to conduct a thorough survey of the castle grounds. It has been a while and I want to know just what trouble the servants have ended up with this time.” he says as casually as he can, halfway turned to the window but watching Merlin nonetheless.

Merlin looks slightly affronted at that and puts down his load on the table with a little clatter. “There is nothing wrong with the servants.” He says with a little grumble. “Well, maybe except for Elias who got all the pots and pans mixed up. The cook was shouting a great deal. Oh! And Mary who keeps mixing colored linens with the white ones...And George…!” he adds thoughtfully before faltering and sighing in grudging defeat. “Okay, I see your point.”

Arthur smirks. “I knew you’d get there in time, even with your slow wit.” he teases. He walks to his table and takes his seat before leveling Merlin with a look. “I will be patrolling the grounds for most of the day. There will be nothing to attend to until after I come back later, so consider this a day off.”

In shocked silence, Merlin places his hands on the table and stares at Arthur with his mouth slightly agape. “You’re giving me the day off? No mucking the stables or polishing your armor. Which is spotless, by the way, despite how you keep on whining about them showing rust.”

Arthur fights a grin from showing as he nods.

Merlin’s brows furrow a bit and without a by your leave, places the back of his hand on Arthur’s forehead. Arthur is shocked before he registers the warm, slightly roughened skin on him. In an instant, he remembers all his thoughts about Merlin and another man, who would’ve felt the same hand on him, the night before and he flinches away in instinct while he registers in the back of his mind the way his heart is suddenly pounding hard in his chest. 

“Are you sick, Arthur?” Merlin asks.

With gritted teeth , Arthur threatens back. “Do you want me to order you to do those things? Because I can certainly arrange that.”

A quick no comes from Merlin who grins at him widely. Arthur proceeds to his meal while Merlin does his morning clean up, waiting for him to finish. Arthur stares at him, the lively thing that is Merlin’s body moving excessively making every flick of the hand a flourish and every step seem like a skip, all ending up in him look as bouncy as a restless child. This happy Merlin humming a little tune, he realizes, is something he always wants to see. He feels himself calm even as he pledged the ruin of any man who would treat him cruelly and try to take away the light in Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin is extra attentive when he takes away Arthur’s meal, asking for any last instruction before he goes off, making Arthur consider giving him more time off if this were the result. However, it is a consideration for another day as he began to take his plans into action. He gives Merlin a head start, counting to 30 in his head before following in his steps.

Merlin is still humming quietly while he makes his way to the kitchen. Arthur almost had his plans thwarted before it could even begin properly when he found himself in the discreet servant passageways and had a maid gasp and curtsey at his presence before he put a finger to his mouth to keep her quiet. The maid gave her a baffled look but scurried away when Arthur shooed him with a little glare. 

He sees Merlin hand off the load to a palace dish washer, a skinny little man who he finds trouble believing would hold Merlin’s affection. Even if the man’s eyes did linger a little longer than necessary at Merlin’s retreating form, Merlin himself showed no interest.

After that uneventful encounter which is soon followed by the kitchen servants letting go of dinnerware in shock at his presence, Arthur finds himself following Merlin in highly familiar hallways leading to Gaius’ quarters. Arthur hopes that Merlin does not choose to spend the day simply resting or cornered and detained by Gaius in need of his assistance, but after waiting a half hour wishing he’d brought a book to keep him company, he flattens himself against the walk of an adjacent hall as Merlin calls goodbye out to Gaius while merrily making his way out.

Arthur follows with patience and stealth. Used to long hunting trips, following Merlin should be no trouble at all. With that in mind, he goes as predator with a faceless, nameless man as prey.

…

Merlin can’t quite believe that he has the day off. A real day off and not simply a day when his service is not required because the king is wounded or some other catastrophe has happened. At first, he found himself not knowing what to do, not having made any plans with anyone and not even sure if anyone would be available to spend time with him. Usually, he would have visited Gwen, who would’ve found the time to talk to him while going through her duties, but ever since he’s had his realizations, he found himself guiltily unable to be as at ease with her as he used to be. Even after his acceptance of the only place he can have in Arthur’s life as his friend, he cannot find himself particularly keen on spending time in her company. Not yet at the very least.

His next thought is visiting Lancelot, but although he found a kindred spirit in the other man, he feels he has already taken too much of the other’s time the past couple of weeks. They were friends, yes, but they make more of confiding partners than partners in crime. They don’t actually share many interests outside of their love for Camelot and its people.

So that leaves...A smile lights up his face and from his slump on his bed, he straightens and stands up, his every step filled with purpose. It has been a while since he'd met with him without others with them and trying to get their attention. Perhaps this is his chance to catch up with the man.

With that in mind, he slips out of his shared room with Gaius and heads on out toward the market place where his friend is sure to be.

The market is one of the noisiest places in the kingdom. It is filled with people most of the day, either bartering, selling, or buying goods, and each trying to get heard over the other. Needless to say, it is also the liveliest and Merlin appreciated the purposeful energy if nothing else. One only goes to the market when one wishes to accomplish something, and sure enough, Merlin has something in mind.

Turning a corner, the small open air dining area greets Merlin as well as an inviting smell of stew and roasted meat coming from the window of the enclosed kitchen. The three long tables are almost filled with appreciative patrons digging into their dinners, but it didn't take Merlin long to find the giant of a man, who is laughingly wearing an apron and holding a knife in one hand while serving cut meat on the other. 

"Perce!" Merlin calls out as he trots nearer. The man immediately looks up to his direction and smiles. He darts inside for a moment before he comes out with his hands free and being wiped on the stained fabric of his apron.

"Merlin! What brings you here?" 

The weight of his big hand on his arm makes Merlin grin,

“Day off!” he says with no other explanation, Percival’s surprised face and quick laugh shows that he understands how rare such an occasion is. He doesn’t ask Merlin why he has come to him, instead beckoning to him to take a seat at one of the tables near the entrance of the kitchen, only gesturing to Merlin for the woman inside the kitchen to understand that he is a guest.

“What did she promise you for your service this time?” Merlin asks with a wink to Percival who throws his head back in raucous laughter.

“I can’t just be here because of my knightly sense of duty?”

Merlin lets out a huff and Percival leans toward him in a conspiratorial manner.

“She promised me a full course meal. For free.” he mock whispers. 

Merlin leans forward bringing them closer until their foreheads nearly touch. “And what else?”

“And her for dessert.” Percy replies, finally moving back to look smugly at Merlin. 

“You fiend!” Merlin exclaims, letting out a laugh of his own. 

This is what Merlin appreciates most about Percival. The light, teasing conversation that they can share freely. There is no need for a purpose for them to share a few words, No need to talk of romance...or sex like Gwaine’s conversation tends to end up to, nor to share deep, personal feelings like Lance seem to inspire.There is also no reminders of time the way Leon would always know when he has to stop talking for him to take his shift at just the exact minute, and no complicated feelings that Arthur pull out from him. 

There is also the advantage of a free meal, since Gwyneth, Percival’s lady friend seem to take it upon herself to feed Merlin and get him to a “decent” size, although what she considers decent is highly questionable when she has Percival to set the standard.

This time, Merlin gets to eat a slab of roasted pork, two slices of bread, and a cup of ale that goes smoothly down his throat, loosening up his tongue to reveal his funny experience with the new stable boy who didn’t seem to know how to muck the stables, ending up tripping on his rake and falling face first in the dirt, as well as the gossips of the laundry girls about the men who currently holds their affection. There is something about secretly sending the men their little clothes, something that Gwyneth, who has come to listen at some point, wrinkled her nose at. 

For his part, Percival talked about rowdy customers who fought over the last piece of meat at their table, their ruckus getting loud and about to be hilariously violent until he had to intervene but needn’t participate as the flex of his muscles quieted the men. He also heaped praises to Gwyneth, her cooking, and her “expert” hands for which he got a slap at the back of the head and a sweet laugh from the woman.

Merlin does not know how long he has spent there, only that he feels completely sated and light, without the emotional baggage of the last couple of weeks.

After a lull in conversation, Merlin looks over Percival’s shoulder toward the horizon, smiling to himself, when he sees a familiar silhouette among the crowd. It is Arthur, hunkered over a bench beside the trinket-maker looking at them from his seat. He looks pensive as if he isn’t seeing Merlin and Percival despite his line of sight. It takes a moment for him to move from his daze and when he does, he meets with Merlin’s eyes and he look surprised. Given that it is Arthur though, the only indication is the slight widening of his eyes. He then turns to the trinkets laid out beside him, picks one out and buys it in a seemingly random fashion before determinedly making his way to them.

There is something stiff in the way Arthur moves that confuses Merlin. He knows nothing that could have caused this awkwardness in his king. Then again, he doesn’t know what Arthur was doing, spending time in the market without obvious purpose, like he didn’t know why he was there, just that he is.

Percival notices his extended silence and turns to follow his gaze. At the sight of Arthur, he stands up and gives the man a grin, beckoning him over as he did for Merlin. Gwyneth, from her station in the kitchen looks out as well and becomes flustered in a matter of seconds, wiping her hands on her apron and curtseying before the king and nervously offering her best portions. 

Arthur smiles kindly at her, and with Percival’s recommendation, asks for her roast and a glass of ale.

“This is good.” Arthur says at his first bite, and Percival grins proudly at him as if he were the one who prepared the dish. 

“How’s your patrol going, Arthur?” Merlin asks casually, not bothering to address him with his proper title. They were in familiar ground and most of the civilians living near the castle are already used to seeing the inappropriate bantering between the king and his servant.

There is an almost unperceivable stilling in Arthur’s movement, a slight tensing that Merlin unconsciously mirrors, but then Arthur is shaking his head, speaking in between bites of pork. “There’s nothing much going on, to my neverending surprise. Everything is in order.”

“Oh.” Merlin feels relief but stores the strange reaction at the back of his mind in case it needs to be further analyzed later on. 

Percival turns to Arthur with a small smirk on his lips. “You’re patrolling the grounds alone? And here I thought you were just as miserable as Gwaine must be feeling after all that ale last night. Assumed that’s why Merlin has the day off.” 

Arthur laughs but Merlin detects a strain to it, and his worry strengthens. He has so long been at Arthur’s side that he finds it natural, to be aware of the little tics in the way Arthur acts, reacts, and presents himself. Now though, he wonders if it is too much, that his emotions has made him too aware of the other man that he overthinks every move and gesture since they have gained a newfound power over him. 

There is no way for Merlin to broach the issue with Arthur, however. These little tells are as much revealing for Arthur as it is for Merlin who takes notice of them.

It takes Arthur a while to finish off his lunch, politely savoring it to the joy of Gwyneth, sharing casual talk with Percival, who really is a friend to all despite what could be considered a menacing build. His face, a mask of seriousness in combat, is open and expressive as he tells his stories. It takes Merlin’s attention temporarily away from his thoughts, laughing alongside Arthur at one of his stories.

Thumping his cup on the table with finality, Arthur excuses himself. He barely looks at Merlin, only nods at him as straightens and moves away from their table. Merlin is more than a little unnerved by now and he decides to follow Arthur.

“Arthur!” he calls out. “I’m coming with you.”

Arthurs turns to him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s your day off, Merlin.”

“That’s right.” Merlin says with a grin, striding next to Arthur after a hurried goodbye to Percival and Gwyneth. “It’s my day off so I can do whatever I want. I’m coming with you.”

Arthur shakes his head but a small smile is on his lips. “Whatever, Merlin.”

…

When Arthur saw Merlin heading towards Percival, he felt a sinking sensation come upon him and he has to stop and take a breath before finding a spot to hide in. There were no walls to be behind of where he still can have a clear view, but the market has a magic of hiding people in plain view when pitted against the dense crowd. He just has to blend in, something he manages with the plain clothes he wore out.

The person who has broken Merlin’s heart possibly being Percival puts a dent on Arthurs plans of putting the man in place. Percival is an honest man, a good friend, and a loyal warrior in battle, and really, he should have considered that someone who has Merlin’s affections would be one he regularly comes into contact with. Isn’t that how affection usually forms? Through sustained contact that help reveal the intimate qualities of a person one may or may not fall in love with.

He watches Merlin and Percival greet each other in earnest, the bright smiles they are capable of giving a trait that they have in common.

They talk as if they do this often, meet up after a long day and spend time together just because they want to. As much as Arthur took of Merlin’s time, there must have still been enough left for Merlin to develop his stupid, stupid crush on Percival.

When Gwyneth comes out of the kitchen to serve Merlin and to stand behind the knight, her hands on his shoulders and leaning in, the puzzle pieces clicked, the final damning piece placed. 

This is why Merlin’s heart is broken.

Arthur wonders if Percival knows. Surely if he knew, then he wouldn’t be showing off his lady right in front of Merlin. He couldn’t think of his friend being that cruel.

He couldn’t think of the pain Merlin is feeling. 

For a moment, he is unsure of what to do, how to approach this, so he lingers until Merlin’s eyes met his and he has no other choice but to come near. That Merlin could still smile that brightly in the face of such hurt lightens Arthur’s heart a little, gives him hope that maybe that this unfortunate incident is not enough to completely put Merlin down, at least not permanently.

The stories that Percival and Merlin tell are lively and makes his eyes crinkle at the side in genuine laughter once or twice, but he could not take away the thoughts about the company he is with. Between conversations to which he gave as sparse an answer as he can, he observes Percival, the way he moves with a heart full of momentary joy, unaware of any reason or conflict that would dampen his mood. He also looks to Gwyneth, flustered at the sight of him at first as was most, but able to get over it in a relatively short time, opening up, pleasant, and obviously in love.

From the side of him, he discreetly scrutinizes Merlin. At first, he looks as if he were in his element, his shoulders shaking while his dimples show at all the right points of the stories that were being told, but Arthur’s eyes catches his once and immediately, something takes over him or Arthur simply takes sudden notice of the slight line of worry between Merlin’s brow and the minute pursing of his lips whenever there is a lull in conversation,

When Merlin asks to come with him when he stands to go only solidifies his concern. 

Even if he couldn’t confront Percival about the situation, he decides that it needs to be addressed one way or the other. And if he’d been having a lot more intimate conversations with his servant lately, well, Merlin has saved his life more than once and that is more than enough to keep him close to Arthur’s heart. 

He is his best friend. Maybe even more than that, but he is hesitant to put a name to it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter is late, and I'm sorry about that, but the story continues! I hope you all continue to enjoy it. :)


	6. As It Should Be

Chapter 5

As It Should Be

Merlin should’ve known that there was something wrong the moment Arthur told him that he had the day off, almost a few days ago now. Ever since that day came to pass, Arthur had been acting a little distant, giving him the barest of tasks, dismissing him after routine work rather than think up an imaginary task to keep him off his ass as the king was wont to do. It’s not that he’s complaining about having less menial tasks to do, made even more easy with how he can use his magic now to help him. It’s also not that Arthur cannot simply be kind, but his brand of kindness usually shows itself in other forms, usually in the way he allows Merlin to act the way he does with him, like a friend, and not simply a servant like he almost seems to be now that Arthur is not engaging him in his usual banter.

There is something in the king’s mind and this worries Merlin because the fact that Arthur has not said anything to him about it yet speaks about the volume of the problem: meaning that the kingdom could be in grave danger, or that Arthur is, whether physically or emotionally is a coin toss. 

Merlin finds himself lingering, keeping his strokes on furniture slow and deliberate, trying to watch and gauge Arthur while he can in close quarters. He’s tried to start a conversation and Arthur would answer, yes, but it would be distracted like he wasn’t talking to Merlin at all but to a voice that he was hearing, an echo outside the noise of his own thoughts.

He would sometimes find Arthur staring though, at his back or when he thinks Merlin isn’t looking. And Merlin would probably not have noticed it if he wasn’t just as keen in observing Arthur. Arthur would have this considering look on his face, like he’s trying to solve Merlin. At times a frown mars his face, his brows pulled together in confusion, and sometimes, there is a slight turn on his lips like he can’t help himself. Merlin wonders if he just happens to be in the way of such intriguing expressions or if he is the subject of Arthur’s thoughts, which is a little troubling given how Arthur, at times when Merlin looks just at the right moment, looks a bit helpless. His mouth would be in a tight line the way he does when he is frustrated about something, and his brows turned slightly upright making him look pleading without him even noticing. 

It worries Merlin, and every time that Arthur calls for him without revealing just the reason for his strange behavior, he feels his stomach turn and his chest turn colder. His desire to be by Arthur’s side is stronger than ever, but he knows that there is a certain distance that he must keep, that perhaps Gwen is the better choice for Arthur to reveal himself to. 

He asked Arthur once,-- just the once that he can let himself as his friend. 

He had been helping Arthur off his armor after training the knights of Camelot when he was able to catch the king’s eyes and he felt his mouth open to ask even before he’s thought it through. 

“Arthur, is there something wrong?”

Arthur startled, blinking rapidly and caught off guard. He took an instinctive step back before he remembered himself, turning his expression into that of open disdain. 

“What are you saying, Merlin? Everything is completely fine.” he said in his usual condescending tone, a habit he comes back to when surprised and has little time to control himself. And well, when he’s talking to Merlin, but the point still stood. 

“It’s just that, there seems to be a lot on your mind lately. You’ve been...quiet.” Merlin continued. Perhaps it hadn’t been the right time, with him being too close to Arthur, his hands still holding on to the vambraces on Arthur’s arms. Too personal for something yet to prove to be truly worrisome to the casual eye. 

But then, perhaps it was perfect with Arthur unable to easily distract him or run away, not that the king would admit to such. 

“Merlin, perhaps I’ve given you too much time to yourself that you’re now spending time imagining things. If that is so, make sure to go to my horse after you rid me of these. He needs brushing last I saw.” he said smirking at Merlin a little. When Merlin’s expression did not change, Arthur’s face fell and he raised a hand and patted Merlin’s arm. 

“Truly, Merlin. Everything is fine. Ruling a kingdom sometimes takes its toll, but nothing out of the usual.”

Merlin nodded at this. Once Arthur escaped the restriction of his chain mail, he turned away. “I’m serious about the horse though.” he said before leaving. 

And that was it. Two days had passed and nothing more is forthcoming.

With this in mind that he walks the castle, having done his chores and simply strolling until he finds or thinks of something better to do. It is while he walks down the corridor looking out the grounds that he hears Lancelot’s laughter, loud and lively like he just heard the funniest joke of his life. Merlin goes to the the ledge peering out to find the man and sees him leaning on a column with Gwen clutching his arm as if it were the only thing holding her up, laughing with him. 

Merlin’s brows rise in surprise. He has not seen the two be so close to each other ever since Gwen got together with Arthur. Sure, they interacted and shared words at times, but there was always polite distance between them, like it was Lancelot’s form of controlling himself, to not get confused of just what it is that he could have. 

He wonders what changed that.

Midday has come with the sun at its highest point when he is able to find Lancelot buying himself an apple from a child bearing a basket, bent down and smiling as he hands her more coins than what it probably cost. Merlin smiles at the man and walks toward him.

“Merlin! It’s been a while. Have you been well?” Lancelot asks with a returning smile although the little upturn of his brows reveal the concern in his eyes. 

Merlin nods, for he himself has been relatively well. It’s Arthur that he worries about.

“Yeah. I think I’ve...settled down a bit. It’s okay now.” Merlin says. Lancelot nods understandingly.

“That’s good, Merlin. I knew you could do it. But...has nothing changed? I mean...” he stops as if unsure how to expound.

Merlin looks at him thinking. “Um...Well, I...I sometimes have to control myself from, you know..touching him or calling out to him,, but everything is almost as it was. At least I think so?”

It is always hard to wake Arthur up in the mornings, basked in the morning light, making his pale features and golden hair shine beautifully, like his very being is calling out for Merlin to worship him with his hands. Bathing him has also become a test of patience and he’d taken extra measures to be busy while Arthur soaks in his tub, only looking when called upon.

He’s been doing fine though. He hasn’t slipped up yet.

Lancelot shakes his head. “No. What I meant was…Actually, I’m just about to take a break in the quarters. Let’s talk there.”

With his interest piqued, Merlin readily agrees, walking the short distance to the knights’ quarters where Lancelot has taken residence since he was welcomed back in Camelot. Lancelot’s room is smaller than Arthur’s and the window that looks out at the grounds has a less impressive view, but the things that he has come to accumulate for himself held the taste of a gentleman even if not the price, all formed well and with a strength to them that tells it should stand the test of time. Trust it to Lance to have a perfect mind for style to top off his already gentry-like appearance. 

Merlin’s wandering eyes and thoughts are brought back to attention as Lancelot touches his arm and leads him to sit on the chair he has moved next to the bed where he settles. Merlin sits as instructed, wondering at the slight crease on Lancelot’s forehead and the soft sigh that comes out of his mouth.

“What is it, Lance?” Merlin uses the knight’s nickname, trying to put him at ease by reminding him that he is in the presence of a friend. 

Taking his time to breathe and compose himself, Lancelot looks Merlin in the blue of Merlin’s curious eyes. “I am in a relationship with Guinevere.” he says, voice serious and with no room for doubt. A statement of fact that should not have been. Merlin stops breathing for a second before he gasps, his mouth hanging open in shock. “Look, we...we got Arthur’s blessing. Gwen explained the situation to him, they separated, and...we got together.” Lance is quick to explain.

“How..! How did this happen?!” Suddenly, Merlin is taking large gulps of air like he was drowning and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. Thoughts of how it happened, of repercussions, of possibilities all running in his mind and passing before he could study any one of them closely. 

Lancelot takes a hold of Merlin’s hands in his. “We haven’t told anyone yet. We’re giving it some time, but I swear to you that Arthur is no longer with Guinevere when this happened. I thought Arthur would have told you by now, at least of their separation.”

“No. No he hasn’t told me anything.” Merlin replies, shaking his head. Not that Arthur has any obligation to, but he should have known. He’s been trying so hard to cope with his own feelings that he has not even realized the recent absence of Guinevere. Arthur has also been dealing with his own problems, needing support that he was not able to give. 

He pales, realizing that this would explain Arthur’s strange behavior of late. “Oh no.” he whispers in heart-felt sympathy..

Lancelot tightens his hold on Merlin. “What is it?”

“Arthur. He’s been acting a little off lately.” Merlin begins to stand, shaking him off. “This must be why.”

Merlin paces, a habit he’s been developing whenever he is with the other man, he thinks briefly.

Lancelot frowns, the line between his brows growing deeper in his concern. “But Guinevere says that they had an amicable parting…” he says his voice thoughtful like he’s trying to recall the exact words that assured him a while back even if they inspire no confidence now. 

“Arthur’s an idiot. A caring, gentle, selfless, prat. He probably tried to hide his true feelings from Gwen.” This fits. The sudden day off, the silence and the avoidance, the distance even when he isn’t angry with Merlin.

Lancelot loses a little color as well. “I did not mean for this to happen.” he says, bracing his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands.

Merlin comes to him, putting a hand on his arm. “This isn’t your fault, Lance. You love Gwen and Gwen loves you. Arthur probably realized this and thought it better this way. I…” He steps back and turns to the door. “I just need to find him.”

Lancelot stands up as well, walking with Merlin to the door. Before Merlin passes through it though, he holds him back at the shoulder and gives him a worried look. “Take care of him, Merlin.” He says quietly, to which Merlin nods, a fierce look in his eyes. 

Merlin’s earlier leisurely strolling in the castle is replaced with hurried steps. He tries not to run, not to alert the servants that are passing his way, but he thinks his labored breath and his frantically moving arms that just won’t still probably gave him away to quite a few of them. 

He heads to the throne room first, checking and finding the throne empty and only finding servants clearing up the room of the recent messes of the last court held. He might have banged the door a little too loudly on his way out but none of the guards stopped him to ask. Without slowing his steps, he heads back to Arthur’s chambers, hoping to catch the king resting after a busy day, waiting for supper to be served and hopefully relaxed enough to answer some questions.

He doesn’t bother knocking. He only ever really remembers to when there were visitors or when stalling. There were no visitors now, and he definitely is not stalling. Merlin enters in long, purposeful strides only to halt as his eyes roam the room without landing on a kingly head of blond hair. He huffs, about to turn around and start his quest anew when he hears steps from behind the divider where Arthur had been dressing. He’s been doing that by himself lately.

“Really, Merlin. You ought to learn how to knock. God knows any other king would have you thrown in the stocks by now due to lack of proper manners.” 

Merlin doesn’t know how to start. He looks at Arthur and instead of replying with a snarky remark like he is used to, he cannot stop himself from studying the other man, trying to discern Arthur from the deepened lines on his face, the tension of his shoulders like pulled bowstring, the width of his stance as if readying for a blow. And yes, there is the tiredness he has been seeing, but whether or not Arthur seems melancholy he could not tell.

“I…” 

Arthur does not let him get any further though, heading towards his desk and setting himself for paperwork. Without landing his eyes once at him, he speaks to Merlin. “I will be heading out on a solo hunt at dawn. Prepare my hunting tools and a day’s meal for me to carry.”

Hunting has long been Arthur’s escape whenever he needed time to breathe away from his responsibilities. They both know this but none of them acknowledges it. 

“Let me come with you.” he says. It’s the only sure thing he can say.

Arthur looks at him like he thinks he’s an idiot. “What part of “solo” do you not understand, Merlin?”

Merlin rushes forward to Arthur’s table, leaning with his hands on it. “But you need someone to protect you! You’re the king, Arthur.”

Arthur steeples his hands in front of him and eyes Merlin. “I can perfectly defend myself, if you must know. And the kingdom is at peace. There has been rare sightings of bandits or rogue sorcerers in the kingdom.”

Deflating, Merlin bites his lip. He wants to come. Needed to come. He could not just let Arthur wallow in his emotions alone in the woods. He knew how painful it is to try and get over an unrequited love and he couldn’t bare thinking of letting Arthur experience it alone. At least he had Lancelot, while he does not think Arthur would open up to anyone about such a thing if not with him. Determination building inside him, he resolves to persuade Arthur even if he has to play a bit dirty. He makes his voice falter as he says his line, knowing it would affect Arthur some way if the man’s reaction before could be relied on. “But you took so long last time.”

As he anticipated, there is a sudden change in Arthur, his eyes widening in surprise before gentling together with the rest of him. He lets out a quiet whoosh of air and his hand hesitates in the air above Merlin’s forearm before it takes ahold of him in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I am hardly going out to face a magical beast this time, Merlin. I’ll be fine.”

While Arthur tries to convince him of this, Merlin fights falling for the strength and sincerity in Arthur’s eyes by looking away. “I still want to come with you…”

They are at a stand still and Merlin does not know how it will end except that he waits with baited breath and a fast beating heart. He perseveres under Arthur’s calculating stare until he could not help swallowing nervously. 

And just like that Arthur is moving again, eyes back on the papers before him and hand closed upon a quill. He clears his throat. “ Very well, then. You may come. But should I hear any of your whinging, I shall leave you alone in the woods to fend for yourself.”

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief, grinning. “I can fend for myself just fine.”

Arthur snorts. 

\---

“But you took so long last time.”

The heaviness that settled in Arthur’s chest after Merlin voiced his worries lifted at the other’s smile when he finally conceded. However, just like that, the heaviness has been replaced with the familiar weight of his recent troubles. That Merlin is coming with him when he sought to be away from the man made him reevaluate his plan of examining his private thoughts in the safety of the silent trees and indifferent animal life.

He had been trying to open up to Merlin, thinking up of ways he can start what would certainly be an awkward conversation about Merlin’s until then unknown leanings and love life. From, aggressive “Tell me for I am your king” to almost pleading “I just want to know. It will change nothing between us, I promise.”, he had gone through ways to start in his mind but unable to find a perfect way to express just what he means. What he feels. Perhaps it is the vagueness in his mind of just what he means and feels that is in the heart of the problem, he has come to conclude, so he has thought of taking a day off to sort through his muddled emotions.

However, the days have been busy with petty conflicts between townspeople, newly arrived son of nobles that wish to be trained as knights, a ton of paperwork, and a listing of stocks in preparation for the coming winter that Sir Leon keeps on nattering about. 

In the end, all he was able to do was observe, more closely than he had ever before. He did in between bites of his meal, when he needed to rest his eyes onto something other than words on a piece of paper, in the brief moments when he catches Merlin working and the man is yet to notice him. He tried to hide it, frightened of being caught and questioned for he didn’t know how to explain himself.

The ironic thing is, while he had taken to looking at Merlin from afar, he has become wary of being in close contact with him. No, he’s not like those men and women who find themselves averse to love of the same sex. He also is not of the belief that if one is a queer that he suddenly fancies everyone of a certain sex he meets. In fact, he has indulged once or twice when he was younger and experimental, inviting a knight or two that has been eyeing him quite obviously into his tent when they were sent by his father on extended patrols. 

He simply felt vulnerable, suddenly more aware of just how much Merlin affects him now that he thinks that...he has a chance? Perhaps he was simply afraid of doing something that Merlin might misinterpret. They were quite close and act as such. More than what was proper. He wonders if his every action affects Merlin. Does Merlin find him attractive? Does he provoke the other man without meaning to?

Or are these simple delusions that should be forgotten? Merlin would’ve said something by now if it were the case, surely? Although Merlin has proven great at keeping secrets, is proving great at it again and again.

His mind kept circling and circling around the same thoughts without hope for a definite conclusion. 

Sometimes, he wishes that he still had the right to Guinevere’s unjudging advise, but with their recent parting and the nature of his query, he does not think it good form to ask for it. He does not wish to trouble her especially with her recent happiness, something he has observed from the sidelines. She had come to Lancelot, finally, who has been brighter and more full of life like he had just seen the light of the sun after a long winter night. They had the grace to keep it quiet for now, especially since people had been audience to his and Guinevere’s relationship, and Arthur appreciated that. Lancelot has also been looking at him with more trust and loyalty than he thought possible from a man who had already shown much of both in the past. 

Things, however, progressed in a manner Arthur had not expected one afternoon when he sees Merlin polishing his armor with his hands. Now that Arthur knows of Merlin’s magic, he has come to associate the action to the other man trying to focus himself into anything other than what was on his mind. Actual physical work seems to do the trick. 

He crept up behind Merlin then, wishing to surprise him to lighten the mood. 

However, the moment he clapped his hand on on Merlin’s shoulder, the other startled so badly that the grin on his face vanished awkwardly before it. What made it worse is the way the surprise in Merlin’s eyes suddenly turned inward, as if hiding from him but unable to mask a certain melancholy in their shine as if tears were threatening to fall. 

He had been planning to distract Merlin but he himself got distracted that he was not able to say anything forthcoming. It was Merlin who was able to speak first.

“What is it, Arthur?” he asked. Arthur actually didn’t have anything on mind, so he tried to regain his footing by trying to ruffle Merlin’s feathers, going to his default fall back.

“Just checking if you’re doing you job properly. You know I can’t have my armor rusting in battle. What will you do if I die because my rusty armor is easily pierced?” 

Merlin visibly stiffened and Arthur fought an answering flinch.

Merlin set the armor down and promptly let his magic move the cleaning tools while he faced and spoke to Arthur in grave tones. “I would never let that happen, Arthur.” 

Arthur opened his mouth but nothing came out until after a few embarrassing tries. “ I know that! I--What is wrong with you today?”

The warlock tried his best not to look at Arthur before putting on a small smile that is more than a little forced. “There’s nothing wrong. Everything’s quite fine, actually.” 

He could not help the frown that formed on his face then, but he knew he cannot force Merlin when he was like that. He was never able to force Merlin to tell him anything, come to think of it. He might be able to order his manservant around, but Merlin’s thoughts had always been his own. showing itself in cheeky insults, in daring friendly banter, and in inspiring encouragement but locked tight and impenetrable when he does not believe Arthur needs to know. 

It frustrated him then, seeing the set of Merlin’s jaw that looked ready to defend what he had said no matter Arthur’s careful wheedling. 

Giving Merlin a nod instead, Arthur walked out his room, feeling like he was not allowed there while Merlin’s in it and hiding from him.

This led him to find company elsewhere, which is why he found himself at the knight’s quarters looking at the gathering of men in the common room in front of the hearth. Everyone was making a noise, crowding each other and crowing at every jest, so it took them a while to notice that they were in the company of their king.

It was Sir Elyan who first takes notice and he cleared his throat which caused a chain reaction of turning and subtly tapping of shoulders to direct attention. It was then that Arthur declared himself, smiling widely as he approached and making sure that he was coming as a comrade rather than their leader at the given moment. The men visibly relaxed and turn their apprehensive looks into warm smiles and beckoning arms. Sir Leon readily handed him a pint from the barrel they had been depleting for the occasion and he was led near the center of the crowd where he was able to see a clear view of the couple.

Arthur froze a as he saw Percival and Gwyneth and was only just able to compose himself when Percival saw him, approaching him and gripping his arm thereafter. “You’re just in time, Arthur!” he declared, a bright grin spread across his genial features.

“For what exactly?” he asked, taking hold of Percival as well and giving a small smile to the shyly smiling Gwyneth half hiding behind the large man. 

“Oh so you didn’t know! No wonder you came so fast just after I sent Sir Tobias for you. I’m getting wed!” There was so much obvious joy in his eyes as well as in the blushing face of his soon to be bride, but Arthur can only give a forced smile and congratulations for the couple. The two did not seem to take notice with Percival laughing loudly, red in the face from the alcohol the other knights no doubt forced on him in lieu of the occasion, while Gwyneth can barely look at his face to take note.

Once both had turned away, he brought himself further from the noise and into the fringes, digesting the new information. Percival was getting married to Gwyneth. Merlin was acting out of sorts and polishing his armor.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to show his sudden need to go to Merlin and decided to head out as soon as he politely can. Perhaps he could claim the need to attend to urgent paperwork.

“Merlin!” Percival bellowed as he parts the crowd and heads towards the door.

Arthur turned in astonishment.

Perhaps those papers can wait after all. He watched, stuck on the ground he was standing on, as Percival placed his huge arm around Merlin, jostling him in merriment and dragging him closer to Gwyneth who leant in and kissed Merlin’s cheek after smiling delightedly at his congratulations. 

Merlin’s shoulders were now a little less stiff, but a single look at Arthur had them tensing again like he knew he cannot hide from Arthur’s eyes. He cannot. Not this time. Arthur held his gaze trying to let him divine how much he knew, Perhaps then Merlin would deign it a lost cause and reveal everything to him as he should have so much sooner. 

Arthur fully intended to have Merlin break the contact with his face already paling considerably, but Lancelot was suddenly blocking his view of his manservant and offering him a newly replenished drinking cup. He could not refuse, not wishing to seem resentful given the circumstances, so he pretended to accept it graciously. 

He hoped that Lancelot did not misinterpret his growing ire for Percival’s obliviousness as he felt his free hand clenching at his side. Thankfully, the man was already distracted by the other knights and Arthur retreated to a relatively calmer gathering at the sides. 

When sitting down and taking a couple of discreet but deep breaths failed to significantly diminish his sudden desire to throw a gauntlet in front of his knight and dear friend Percy for hurting Merlin, even unknowingly, he tried to better settle himself by finding the root of his...over reaction--- he could admit that, because he more than anyone knew how Merlin could keep a secret. He cannot very well blame Percy for not knowing of his friend’s affection.

If Percy cannot be made responsible, then it must be Merlin, and him alone, that brought these strong emotions to come out of his chest. But he has always been protective of Merlin. More and more throughout the years, and even his relations with Guinevere has never changed Merlin’s place in his life and heart. Just like the wizard has always been there for him even before he knew of the magic, he has always strived to be the same ever present protector even if he would never admit it in front of the man himself.

He fought for him, drank poison to spare the man’s life, and never gave up on him even when he was seemingly lost to all. And he would do all of it again if need be.

He laughed humorlessly as he thought of how he’d never felt as strongly for Guinevere even if their love was pure, gentle, and kind, much like her.

“You said I was part of your happiness, and you are part of mine too, but...there are people in both our lives who are a larger part of it." he remembered her saying, and he now saw that the larger part of his happiness is because of Merlin much as Guinevere’s is because of Lancelot. 

He startled at the comparison and needed to take a step back when he found himself swaying at the force of the realization.

He wants to protect Merlin because he loves him. 

He loves him. 

At once he made his excuses to the slightly concerned but otherwise preoccupied knights, walking as swiftly as he could to his rooms where he can be alone with his thoughts. He felt Merlin boring a hole at his back with his following eyes, but he braced himself to not look back until he made it out the knights’ quarters and into his own. 

Sat upon his favorite chair and warmed by the fire he had asked another servant to start, he came to a decision to escape all this for a little while. He must go out to hunt as early as it can be arranged.

It is three days later when the kingdom’s more important matters have been settled that he tells Merlin to prepare for his hunt. It is the same three days later that Merlin decides to come with him. 

And now, at first light of the following day, saddling the horses and checking his pack, he looks with a little apprehension towards the forest where for the first time since this whole thing started,-- for it had begun even before that fateful night three days ago even without his notice-- he will be completely alone with Merlin for longer than he is currently prepared for. 

\---

From his view slightly behind Arthur, Merlin could easily see the apparent tenseness that keeps the king’s back straight atop the his horse. They were letting the horses stroll, giving them rest after galloping for the good part of the distance between the castle and the forest where the grounds is still relatively flat. They were unable to partake in their usual banter then, while their breaths were in time with their bounce upon the saddles, but now that the early commotion has died down, a peculiar silence descends upon them. 

Merlin, perhaps because he does not know where to start, how to broach a subject that although concerned him had too much of an effect on him that he wanted to stall for a bit. And Arthur because he never intended to share his thoughts, for Merlin to be there riding with him.

They keep at it, breaking the silence only with inane talk about stopping to let the horses drink, motioning at each other to slow down or quicken, and making signs about where to turn. Even during the hunt Merlin keeps unnaturally adept at keeping still, focused, and almost helpful to Arthur by masking some of their noise with his magic without being asked to. Not that Arthur catches a whole lot, getting distracted trying to hunt when he did not actually plan to and with Merlin crouched close behind him.

By the time that it is near nightfall, Arthur managed a couple of dead rabbits and nothing more. He hands them to Merlin to be skinned and prepared for dinner while he attends to the horses himself and set up their tent.

It is not until they are both sitting in front of the fire and eating rabbit stew that one of them tries to broach the things that were being held back. Merlin is the first to go. 

“Arthur.” he starts but almost stops altogether at the almost imperceptible stiffening of Arthur’s muscles, the lines becoming more visible around his eyes. But he continues. It is precisely because of these kinds of reactions that he has decided to do this, to press the issue to try and give a love lorn Arthur the comfort he can give even if it rubs at his own wounds to give the man recourse without taking advantage of the situation. He can’t just leave him be---he can’t do that to Arthur. 

Arthur sets his bowl down to the ground beside him and looks at Merlin from across the flames, visibly preparing himself, and Merlin almost flinches at the steely gaze, daring him to continue at his own risk. 

However, Merlin has faced a lot for this man, and this is just one other thing to add to his long list.

“I’m sorry about, Gwen.” he says, trying not to rush when all he wants is to have this conversation over as fast as possible. He doesn’t let Arthur’s startled look stop him from continuing though. “I just learned of it, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to notice beforehand. It must be painful.” At this, he stands up and scurries over to sit on Arthur’s log beside him. 

“This hunt, I know you want to escape for a bit, Arthur. But I also want to be here for you. You can tell me anything. You know you can,”

Merlin looks at him so earnestly, his large blue eyes shining with the reflection of the fire as well as a life of their own and Arthur feels his heart thump hard in his chest staring at them. “I can tell you anything…?’ he repeats weakly, and for a moment he almost believes that it could really be that easy.

Merlin nods at him and takes a hold of his arm, as if urging him to say everything that he keeps secret. It is also this touch that shakes him, that reminds him of Merlin, his presence that he’s come to value and cannot lose. He also remembers as if from far away that Merlin thinks this is about Gwen.

He shakes his head and pulls Merlin’s hand off him gently, and if he held a second too long trying the feel of Merlin’s long and slender fingers against his for a while, well, this hunt was supposed to let him clear his thoughts anyway, and if Merlin insists on taking part of this exploration into his heart, then he might as well take the chance to learn more. 

He tries to keep eye contact with Merlin but opts to stare back into the fire instead, finding the former too distracting. “ Gwen and I parted without anything ugly between us. We realized that while we do care for each other, there are other people we care more about.” I care more about you he wants to add but keeps his mouth shut in a tight line. 

Merlin is still looking at him but when he does not look back, he instead scoots closer and bumps shoulders with him, also staring at the fire that is more welcoming of their attention than either of them. “She may have found someone she cares more about, but how about you Arthur?” he asks softly, carefully.

Arthur tries not to laugh at that, he really tries, but a snort escapes him nonetheless. He feels more than sees Merlin’s surprise. He does not know how to explain himself, not at that moment, so instead he turns around the conversation on Merlin, still without making eye contact with anything but the burning firewood. 

“So, Merlin. You can also tell me everything.” Merlin’s wariness is immediately obvious in the appearance of distance between them even if it is only an inch as Merlin leans forward and away from their touching sides. It makes Arthur‘s desire to be closer, to have Merlin tell him anything and everything, to feel comfortable to open up to him like he does with the other knights, alight with sudden flare and then he has his arm around the other man’s shoulder and bringing him close, whispering low and with a bit of vengeful teasing close to Merlin’s ear. “Talk to me about Percival.” 

Merlin is unable to stop from shivering at the sudden nearness of Arthur, at the hot breath against his sensitive ears, and the slight rasp of his stubble rubbing at the curve of his jaw. He is overwhelmed and feeling warmer already that it takes a second or two before he registers what Arthur actually said. 

“Percival? What about him?” He asks, wanting to move away again but unable to with the unyielding strength of the other’s arm. Arthur has always been exceptionally fit.

Arthur squeezes his shoulder and scowls a bit at Merlin’s confused expression, not fooled with the blush that gives him away. As it always is with Merlin, he would have to spell it out. “You’re in love with him.” he says coldly, trying to separate himself from the statement to ease the sudden emptiness he feels in his chest. 

At that Merlin is pushing him away so he can properly turn and splutter at Arthur’s face. “What are you saying?!” he squawks when he is able to speak, sounding scandalized. Arthur does not seem moved, instead he looks steadily at Merlin like he’s waiting for him to give in and admit his claim. 

“ I am not in love with Percival! He’s my friend and he’s getting married!” His voice is loud enough in the quiet of the night that there comes the sound of rustling from disturbed forest animals. A crow flies overhead.

Arthur tuts and takes ahold of one of Merlin’s hands between the two of his. Merlin’s fingers convulse a bit before they still. “Percival is getting married with dear Gwyneth, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that you love him.” Merlin opens his mouth to speak but Arthur doesn’t let him, tightening his hold that Merlin almost winces. “I know you’re hurt, Merlin. Gwaine speaks of it and I have been observing you and I want you to know that you don’t have to hide anything from me. Not anymore. Talk to me as a friend, and I will be one as you are to me.”

Arthur who has turned from staring at Merlin to examining their joined hands by the middle of his speech is surprised to find Merlin paler than he was moments before when he looks up again. When their eyes meet, Merlin pulls his hand away with surprising force and Arthur is suddenly on the receiving end of that closed off look he has been seeing in his manservant lately, glassy with wetness that won’t be allowed to fall and with lines forming between his brows in the tightness of control. 

“Merlin, what-...?” He begins but Merlin cuts him off.

“I am not in love with Percival, Arthur. I never have been.”

“Then--”

“I am in love with an idiot and it’s going nowhere and you don’t have to concern yourself with it.” he says in a rush.

When Merlin makes a move to stand, Arthur feels his fists clenching, and without thinking too much about it, he lets his frustration out and asks, “Why won’t you tell me?! You would tell Gwaine but not me?”

“You never told me about Gwen, either.” Merlin answers coldly.

Arthur deflates at that. “There is nothing to tell, Merlin. We parted ways, it ended. No one is hurt, so I didn’t see the big deal. I thought you would have learned one way or another without me telling you, but I did not hide it from you either.”

The light of the fire has grown dimmer and the shadows grew longer, giving a more sombre tone to the forest. Arthur thinks it’s fitting the way the conversation has turned disastrous at every turn. 

With a flick of his hand, Merlin sends dry leaves and wood into the fire to rekindle it. “If no one is hurt, then why are you running away here now?” His voice is quiet but there is a slight challenge to it. He has settled back in his previous position, his hands moving restlessly on his lap.

Arthur cannot answer, would not answer as if someone has put a spell on him so that an invisible force clamps on his mouth. The crack of dry wood being consumed by the flames, the hum of insects, and the stray hoots of owls are the only sounds that stifle the silence in his stead. 

The shine in Merlin’s eyes is brighter when he speaks again, but he pushes through, fighting an unknown foe. “I...I care about you, Arthur, and I want to help you. But this isn’t working. I’m sorry. I’ll head back early tomorrow.”

As he stretches his body up and takes his first step, fear grips Arthur, a weight at his core making itself known, realizing that something would change irrevocably if he lets their conversation end like this, if he lets Merlin go. In an instant, he remembers the past few weeks, the long days of cold distance and the strangeness when it the distance had been closed, like things kept getting in the way for things to get back the way they were. He wonders if that chimera cursed him after all since nothing seemed to go completely right the moment he returned, 

“But you took so long last time.”

He wonders if he is too late, that he cannot bring them together as they were in the past. 

He doesn’t want to speak, does not want to reveal something so new (is it new? Hasn’t it always been there?), so vulnerable just yet to Merlin, especially when rejection is so clearly on his path. However, if it is the only thing he can take a chance on, the only thing that would make Merlin come back and talk to him, to bring their hard won honesty back, then he would risk it.

Arthur moves fast enough to stand with Merlin that Merlin visibly spooks and turns to him with surprised, doe-like eyes, the shocked look on his face exaggerated into almost a caricature by the playing of firelight. “Arthur…?”

Arthur is breathing heavily and he licks his lips that suddenly feels dry. He makes an aborted attempt to step forward but is ultimately stuck on his feet. “Gwen told me that there are different people in our lives that make us happy. Lancelot makes her happier than I could ever make her,” he says.

“Oh, Arthur…” Merlin attempts to move toward him, but Arthur shakes his head and smiles at him ruefully. “No. I’m happy for her. She deserves...They deserve to be happy with each other.” 

“It’s just that I realized...there’s someone else, too. That someone else makes me happier than I ever was with her, and...and it’s just a bit difficult to wrap my head around.”

Merlin freezes where he stands, listening to Arthur who is looking at him and trying to make him understand when all Merlin could think is that there is someone else that has Arthur’s heart. And while he has made peace with it being Gwen, at the prospect of seeing Arthur being with someone else all over again makes him feel like something is squeezing his heart that he can’t help the small gasp that escapes him. 

Arthur does not mind this much, probably attributing his reaction as surprise even when Merlin feels like running away again although he’s not sure his legs would keep him up this time. Not when he’s turning slightly lightheaded with how much blood has drained from his face despite how hard his heart is working in his chest. 

He has to consciously lock his knees when he swayed, but at the simple movement, Arthur’s eyes that have been transfixed on the space beside Merlin’s head focus on him sharply. Merlin distantly recognizes a desperate shine in his king’s eyes, something that is often inspired by a losing battle before Arthur makes a heroic but highly risky move to save the day. 

He is scared at what could have made Arthur look this way.

“It’s you.” Arthur says softly that Merlin almost doesn’t hear from the thundering inside his veins.

Me? What about me? he thinks uncomprehending. He’s about to open his mouth to ask just that but Arthur is crowding him, both his arms in a firm grasp as Arthur’s determined face comes near---too near. 

There is a small tremble in the hands holding him that he’s beginning to be very afraid despite the distracting face in front of him. “Arthur…?” 

“It’s you Merlin. I’m happiest when I’m with you. Gwen...Gwen realized it, realized so much sooner. But I know now. Merlin…” At this he takes a fortifying breath. “ I’m not here because of Gwen or Lancelot. I’m here because of you.”

Merlin has stopped breathing and it is hurting his chest, making it feel about to burst. He almost does not understand, unable to grasp what’s being said, but Arthur is looking at him so sincerely, so expectantly. He tries to speak but nothing comes out other than a sudden burst of sound, and then he’s smiling and he feels a tear crawl down his face, although how it formed and how it fell are completely different reasons. He quickly wiped it away but Arthur had seen.

Arthur is looking at him, confused and slightly horrified, but Merlin still can’t speak, taking the time to take in the breaths he’s lost along the way. “ Merlin? What...I...Why are you crying? I...You don’t have to say anything.” Arthur’s voice is unsure and breaking at interval. “I’ll...go...”

Arthur is taking cautious steps back, still watching Merlin even as he moves away as if checking even in his imagined rejection if Merlin is alright. At that Merlin is able to gather enough strength for his voice to work. “Arthur, no.” 

His eyes widening, Arthur mumbles, “O-okay.” like it’s been punched out of him before he finally turns and takes quick strides towards the opposite direction. Merlin is faster though, even when stumbling to catch Arthur’s arm and pull him to himself. “No. No, I meant don’t go.” 

There is still a bewildered look on Arthur’s eyes when he faces him again but he waits for Merlin to speak, stony in his silence. 

Merlin has a wild smile on his face when he lunges and brings his lips to Arthur’s which are pressed tightly together until the surprise loosens the muscles. It is ungraceful and it hurt a bit when Arthur’s gasp combined with the force he’s putting into it made their teeth clack but it might just be Merlin’s best kiss yet. 

When Arthur still makes no move, he finally pulls away to see Arthur’s flushed face and gaping mouth. He almost kisses him again but he figures he needs to explain one way or another. He doesn’t know how to say it all because he never even planned on saying anything, but there’s one thing he’s sure of.

“I love you, too, Arthur.” It comes out a little breathy and seemingly loud but he doesn’t care because he’s said it. He can say it.

The smile that blooms on Arthur’s face even as he splutters is beautiful and radiant and more than anything Merlin could ask for in that moment. “W--What about Percival?”

Merlin places his arms around Arthur’s waist and burrows his face at the side of his neck still feeling overwhelmed and even more elated when Arthur does not push him back, instead wrapping an arm around him and placing a hand on his head like he wants to keep Merlin where he is. 

“I was never in love with Percival. I told you. I’m in love with an idiot.”

Merlin liked feeling the laugh rumbling out of Arthur’s chest even if his current position made it impossible to escape the cuff he received on his head. “Still so impertinent.” Arthur mutters. They stay like that for a while, just breathing.

When Arthur suddenly tightens his arms on him, Merlin finally detaches himself enough to study the other man. “What’s wrong?”

Tight lipped, Arthur raises a hand and cups Merlin’s cheek. “ I broke your heart, didn’t I? When Gwaine saw you, you were at the tavern because of me.” his voice is terse and pained and Merlin feels sympathy even when it had been him who hurt then. “ I...made you cry, didn’t I? That’s why earlier…” Merlin nuzzles against Arthur’s palm, trying to give a measure of comfort, finally moving to kiss it. 

“ It doesn’t matter.” he says gently. “You’re here now aren’t you?”

Arthur lets out a sigh and though the muscles in his jaw relax, a fierceness in his eyes replaces it. “ I won’t do it again, Merlin. I won’t break your heart. “

Even filled with joy, Merlin knows it isn’t true. That one way or another, both he and Arthur would have to do things that would hurt in the name of building a better kingdom. They are still on their long way to creating Albion. It does not matter much though that their hearts would break, as long as they’d both be there to mend it in the end.

“Okay.” he says anyway. 

They talk. They talk about all the things that they were unable to say before, all the things that they kept from one another, and it turns out that they are things they already know after all. They just needed the right context, the right light with which to view their relationship. All things considered, nothing much is changed except now Merlin can hold Arthur’s hand and Arthur can lean in to kiss him. 

By the time silence descends upon them, they are already tired from a tension-filled day and a pretty emotional night. There is a beat of awkwardness as they both lug their bed rolls, unsure of just where to place them, but Arthur, ever confident in actions regardless of the roiling in his stomach goes beside Merlin and settles down, clearly making an example for Merlin to do the same without so much as speaking a word. 

Merlin does so, heat coming up his cheeks, not once looking at Arthur when he lays down, pointedly looking up at the foliage and the bits of night sky that peek through. He does not know what to expect and what is expected. He feels every breath until it whooshes out loudly when Arthur’s heavy arm is flung around his middle. 

He looks at Arthur to perhaps get a hint of what they’re doing, but Arthur is smiling at him and he feels the tension of his muscles go in response. Suddenly not caring about what he should and should not do, he turns in Arthur’s arms and comes closer until he could bury his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the man. He revels in it, filling his senses of Arthur’s musk, the slight bristle of his stubble, the little sounds he makes nuzzling into Merlin’s hair, and the firmness that keeps him close. 

His eyelids fall. 

They don’t do anything but kiss and hold each other that night or the next. They feel no rush now that they know that they have the time, just a slow uncoiling of something sweet and beautiful, warm and building. On the third day, they decide to come back. 

\--- 

When the flags of Camelot welcome them, they make no announcement. They act as they have always done, or at least something similar to it, except that they now know the meaning behind every gesture. There just were more of everything, from touches to happy banter, tussling of hair, and bumping of shoulders.

No one bats an eyelash and Merlin almost laughs at that, how everyone can see them in love and think nothing of it when just a couple of days ago, Merlin has been tearing himself up over everything he thought he could not have but now has as if it were always his. 

They weren’t rushing still when warm with the fire in Arthur’s chambers that night they lay down and finally take the time to slowly kiss the skin that falling clothes reveal. 

Arthur kisses Merlin’s shoulder, his lover’s tunic still hanging from one arm and getting tangled with long fingers. He looks up to meet wide, sparkling blue eyes and smiles.

“What?” Merlin asks breathlessly even as his hand knows the answer the way it starts to run Arthur’s arms and back, tracing every curve and dip of muscle. 

Arthur doesn’t answer and instead breathes his way up Merlin’s long pale neck until he is in just the right spot to gently suck a bruise behind Merlin’s ear, making the other man shudder hard and whimper. The sound heats up Arthur in the most pleasant of ways and he licks a lobe just to hear it again in a hunch, easily proven true by Merlin’s tightening hold, that Merlin’s large ears are sensitive.

He tries Merlin’s name on his tongue after, whispers it at the man like it’s everything he wants, and he finds he likes it--that it is in fact everything he wants. “ Arthur…” Merlin moans back with just as much fervor.

Merlin has assured him that it isn’t his first time making love and doing so with a man but Arthur still wants to take care of him like it were his first. Their kisses are open-mouthed, slow and wet, tongues tangling, foreshadowing the coming moments while Arthur takes Merlin’s cock in his hand together with his, moving and twisting at the end to create delicious friction that has them moaning and thrusting. Both naked on the bed and facing each other, they smile even even as their breaths become harsher and faster between them. 

Soon enough Merlin is trembling so Arthur relents, moves back to get the vial of oil he has prepared on his bedside table. Merlin’s eyes follow his every movement, and when Arthur pushes him back down finally, Merlin readily opens his long legs to welcome Arthur between them. Accepting the invitation, Arthur settles, pouring a generous amount of oil onto his fingers to circle Merlin’s puckered entrance.

Despite the pulsing in his cock, Arthur prepares Merlin slowly, with a single finger first, then a second, making him hiss as Merlin groans and clenches.

“Shh...Relax, Merlin. I’ll take care of you.” he whispers with his lips on the back of Merlin’s thigh. The warlock nods and breathes deliberately as he tries to open up for Arthur. As the muscles soften, Arthur moves once again, this time making sure to push in until both fingers are in to their knuckles before twisting in search of Merlin’s pleasure. When Merlin’s mouth opens, slack, and his hips stutter, Arthur knows he’s found it and wastes no time in coaxing moans out of the other man, stroking and thrusting.

Merlin does not stop meeting Arthur’s fingers even when a third digit is added and Arthur is suddenly swallowing hard knowing its nearly time. 

“Haa...Arthur…” Merlin calls, his eyes catching the other man’s and giving him all the permission he needs. Arthur moves then, muscles moving gracefully and powerfully, looming above Merlin and lining himself up. As his tip pushes in, he dips his head down for an open press of lips, the sound of their pleasured groans mixing between them.

He did not know he closed his eyes until he opened them and meets Merlin’s, Fully sheathed inside the man he loves beneath him, he is bubbling with joy that he could not help but chuckle a little, something that Merlin answers in kind. Just like that, he’s moving. Slowly at first but gradually moving faster until he’s not thinking about it, reacts instinctively to the sounds Merlin makes, the flutter of his lashes, the pressure of his lips, and the nails scraping hot lines across his shoulders and back.

They lose concept of time, engulfed in simply feeling each other. 

Both Arthur and Merlin’s skin feels hot yet they are wet, slick with sweat and cum dripping from Merlin’s cock, their kisses loud and adding flavor from their love making. They’re close now, the sounds they make coming together louder and without beat, stuttering, held by short breaths and brought back in long, deep moans and quick grunts. 

Merlin, with Arthur’s one hand on his cock, comes first with a with a sound akin to exclamation, and Arthur would ask what he’s found if he isn’t too busy finding his own climax thrusting deeply for a couple more strokes before groaning loudly as he comes. He pulls out after a moment and rolls to lie beside Merlin, both of them just breathing and reveling at what they’ve just done.

“Arthur?” 

“Yes, Merlin?” 

Merlin grins at the ceiling. “You took good care of me. Really good care.” 

Arthur laughs loud and happy, and Merlin thinks if Arthur likes taking care of him that much, then he would let him more often. 

\---

Merlin is mixing some herbs for a healing tincture while Gaius is away checking up on some villagers when a knock on the door startles him. He calls whoever it is to enter, gathering his wits just in case it’s one of Gaius’ patients. He’s been practicing more and more now, and he feels proud that the man he’s come to think as a father has been allowing him and trusting more than his magical abilities. 

However, it is a rather healthy looking Lancelot that greets him. 

“Lancelot?” he asks, a little curious at the smile the other is giving him.

“Merlin, do you have some time to talk?” Merlin looks at his ingredients and decides that there is nothing that can’t wait, so he nods. At that, the other man closes the door behind him and comes closer.

“What is it?”

Lancelot leans his back and elbows at the table beside Merlin, looking at home as he continues to look at him, as if examining him. His smile keeps Merlin at ease though so he waits for the man to speak. 

Finally, Lancelot talks with a conspiratorial look to him. “Merlin, is there something you wish to tell me?” 

“ Wha--” a question is immediately on Merlin’s tongue but Lancelot’s raised hands stills him. 

“About Arthur.” he says with a hinting motion of eyebrows.

Realizing what the man is referring to, Merlin’s face breaks into a grin. Trust Lancelot to notice first. They haven’t been making declarations just yet, simply luxuriating in each other’s company and keeping their love to themselves for the time being. They’ve talked about it, and they would tell, but not yet. Lancelot, though, Merlin feels that he owes him this, to tell him what really transpired. The man has been his greatest confidant after all. 

He tells his their story, starting from Merlin’s motivations on joining Arthur in the hunt, their silence, their misunderstandings, and finally their coming together under the stars. He hesitates then to continue on what they have been up to since they’ve come back, but the blood rushing to his cheeks more than makes up for his silence and has Lancelot chuckling and clapping him on the back.

He feels a little bit shy but he can’t help the feeling of warmth that spreads through him at their shared happiness. The both of them had gone so far from when they were just a heartbroken pair.

“It boggles me sometimes… that I have Arthur now.” He says privately to Lancelot who instantly sobers up, a gentle and sincere look taking over his features. 

“And I Guinevere.” he says back and they both stare at nothing for a little while, lost in their thoughts. “ I never knew how to get over her, you know. That’s why I was so frustrated when you first told me about Arthur.” he continues. “Maybe I was never meant to get over her.”

Merlin turns to him. “Kilgharrah...the dragon told me, you know. I just never thought being the other side of his coin also meant this. Said it was my destiny.”

The knight huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, muttering, “Dragons. Only you, Merlin.”

They spend time reveling with stories of Gwen and Arthur, and them and love. Merlin relaxes into the conversation, never before thinking he would be able to have it. Even if he is magic itself, he knows that all his power could not have brought this to happen if he first isn’t Merlin and Arthur his king, friend, and lover. And this is also why he also knows that not the strongest of magic would be able to tear their hearts apart for love will always be greater than magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this story a year and a half since I started it. I know it took too long, but I'm glad I got through this. There is so much love I feel for those who gave their time to show their support through words, kudos, comments, etc. etc. This has been a magical ride! MY FIRST MERTHUR FIC, DONE!


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